Another Year Ends

I don't know what to think about the end of 2011.

It's not that the end of a year marks anything in particular. One day still follows another. Yes, we start a new calendar, and the date changes on our checks; but day comes after night, and each cycle still has 24 hours.

The thing about this year is that it is ending without anything being that much different than last year. I started the year focused on the word "unafraid" and created a vision board that highlighted change and growth and possibility. I took each day as it presented itself, broadened my view of opportunities, and appreciated my good health. I opened my heart.

Still, here I am this new year's eve, stuck in neutral. For all my optimism, I have not found what I am looking for. Instead, the word "lost" comes to mind this night....

So I turned to Mary Oliver for words of wisdom. I pulled New and Selected Poems Volume Two off the shelf and let the book fall open. These are the words I read:

The Owl Who Comes
by Mary Oliver

The owl who comes
through the dark
to sit
in the black boughs of the apple tree

and stare down
the hook of his beak,
dead silent,
and his eyes,

like two moons
in the distance,
soft and shining
under their heavy lashes-

like the most beautiful lie-
is thinking
of nothing
as he watches

and waits to see
what might appear,
briskly,
out of the seamless,

deep winter-
out of the teeming
world below-
and if I wish the owl luck,

and I do,
what am I wishing for that other
soft life,
climbing through the snow?

What we must do,
I suppose,
is to hope the world
keeps its balance;

what we are to do, however,
with our hearts
waiting and watching--truly
I do not know.

On this night, at year's end, my heart continues to wait and watch ~

The Perfect Tree

This year's tree is perfect, not in the strictest sense but in that it matches how life feels right now. I noticed on the lot that this tree was a lighter color than its neighbors. I thought it was a special variety, when the actual reason is because it didn't get enough fertilizer. Even though the tree didn't get all the necessary nutrients, it grew to maturity. Filling one corner of the living room, it's the biggest tree I've ever had. From one vantage point, it's perfect ~

From another view, the holes and gaps and stray limbs are obvious ~

It's the imperfections that make it unique and beautiful.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Another Mystery

I was going to write this post last night. Then I fell asleep in the bathtub and when I woke up I figured it was time to go to bed.

It has been that kind of week ~ some good plans and a few detours.

Last weekend we dealt with a water stain on a ceiling in a downstairs room that has no plumbing directly above it. I know a plumber in town who kindly paid a call on Saturday when she checked everything upstairs: toilets, sinks, shower heads, drains, and every exposed pipe. No water anywhere, which was good news but didn't solve the mystery. We brainstormed all the possibilities and concluded that water being water might have come in during a heavy wind/rain storm around the vent pipe in the roof and wound its way to this particular spot. The water on the ceiling has dried, leaving behind a stained, wrinkled, cracked, peeling patch of paint that will need to be professionally repaired. [Ceilings are hard to fix.]

That's when I realized I wasn't going to be able to make everything perfect for the upcoming holiday. I can do everything in my power but there are things over which I have no control.

This Christmas is a big deal for my family. It's the first time in eight years that my daughter has had the Eve, which is her birthday, and Christmas free and clear, and she has made plans to spend the time with us. My son P is traveling from California with his wife for her first Christmas in Maine. My son T is coming home from Seattle after completing his first quarter of grad school.
I wanted everything to be just right. My first clue to the futility of that should have been when the Anderson window took on a life of its own a few weeks ago ~ those windows are still unwashed. [I am sorry that so many of you have had the same problem.] We will just have to look past the dirt to focus on the beauty outside and the gradual increase in daylight.

I have turned my focus to what I can do, which has been a good thing. I have made four new tablecloths and four sets of cloth napkins. Today I start cleaning this house from top to bottom and next week the baking will begin. We will get a tree on Sunday and decorate as time permits.

I fully anticipate that more obstacles will appear and more mysteries will go unsolved. Such is life....

I did solve the mystery of the missing plant pots. I haven't found the pots but I have spotted various other lightweight items scattered about. Then one morning I saw the younger dog from next door proudly carrying off a piece of kindling from the bin on the porch. Aha! As long as the furniture and the grill stay put we will be okay.

Two Appointments

I had two medical appointments today. I don't usually schedule appointments in places that are 75 miles apart for the same day, but in each case it was the first date available. The time slots were four hours apart so it was okay.

This morning was a repeat visit to Women To Women [W2W], the health center co-founded many years ago by Dr. Christiane Northrup. She is no longer there, but there are professionals who specialize in all things to do with lady parts. I had a pap smear during a yearly physical in July that was normal, but my primary care physician was concerned about white patches on my cervix. Eight years ago I was a patient at W2W when I had some problems that turned out to be related to menopause, with a good resolution, so it made sense to return there for a look-see. Since it had been longer than seven years I was considered a new patient, and all the paperwork was a pain, but they were able to get me in in October.

Then I was seen by Kate, a nurse practitioner who confirmed that I had white patches on my cervix [white blood cells decided to hang out and medical professionals like to know WHY]. She prescribed a different estrogen cream, one that was supposed to be more compatible with my body's chemistry than the Premarin I had been using. After six weeks I was scheduled for another look-see with Marcelle Pick, RNC, MSN, OB/GYN, NP.

I used the free samples of Vagifem that Kate gave me. Then I did some research with my daughter that showed that estrogen cream is basically estrogen cream. Plus my insurance won't cover Vagifem. Plus I had a full tube of Premarin, so Premarin it was for six weeks.

I was nervous this morning. I didn't mean to be, and I tried not to be, but I was. Then I had to try to make sense of my self-prescribed switch from the Vagifem samples to the Premarin cream so the nurse could make a note in my chart. There was some tsk-tsking but there wasn't anything I could do about that after the fact.

My nervousness must have showed because Marcelle [first-name basis at this place] worked hard to put me at ease before the exam. She explained that she might not even have to do a biopsy if everything looked okay. I said I had been through all of this many years ago and she said that they have a better way of doing things now.

Then she took a look and told me I have a beautiful cervix. No problems. Seriously? Yes, all clear. I smiled, thanked her, and treated myself to a muffin on the way out of town. Note to self: the prescribed half a gram of estrogen cream once a week promotes cervical health.

I had time to take a breath and stop at home before my afternoon appointment.

One down and one to go....

The second appointment was with my primary care physician/osteopath to check on my shoulder. She last worked on it in July. My shoulders have been sore and I've felt like I'm out of alignment, so the timing of today's visit was good.

She started with my legs and lower back, and then my abdomen. She was there a long time.

"What's with your gut?" she asked. "Have you had that bug that's going around?"

No, I've been physically healthy. But for weeks I've felt like I'm in a bind. Once again my body has ratted me out. We talked and she worked on my head and shoulders a bit. But the issues stem from my core.

I am literally gut wrenched.

She asked a couple questions. Is there anything I can do about it? No.

There are things out of my control. Something close to home has changed but someone has drawn their line in the sand and I have no say about it. There is nothing I can do about something that deeply affects me.

I'm in a bind. I can't see a solution.

And I need to push it down until after the holidays. I am so looking forward to all of my family being home for Christmas and New Year's. That is all I want to focus on right now.

My stomach will just have to go with the flow until January. The rest of me has a lot to do.

Thanksgiving On Cape Cod

Our drive to Cape Cod was uneventful. By the time we were an hour south of home there was no evidence of snow. My wish for Thanksgiving was to get a look at the water that surrounds the Cape, so before our lovely dinner in Barnstable we found a lane that led us to a view of Cape Cod Harbor, north of the peninsula, from Sandy Neck Beach ~
On the drive back to the B&B I saw the November sky that I had waited all month to see ~

The B&B in Falmouth has a main house ~

And a cottage out back, where we stayed. It had plenty of space for the three of us, but the country charm was tarnished by a musty smell that remained despite our best efforts to air the place out. Our best solutions were to leave the door open when we were there during the day [thank goodness the weather was warm] and to invest in linen-scent-reed-atomizers for each room ~

On Saturday we walked down to Surf Drive Beach, on the south side of the peninsula, for a view of Vineyard Sound. Different from Maine beaches, there were piles of shells and places covered with small stones. There must be more sand at low tide ~

Each morning after breakfast we walked into the village where there were wonderful shops and great places to enjoy coffee, a meal, or dessert ~

Breakfast was served in the dining room of the main house. The table in the back corner by the window was always set for three ~

The parlor, where we were able to access the village's public internet, was decorated for the holidays by the morning we left ~

All in all it was a good trip. Yesterday I picked up a full-sized map of Cape Cod so we can plot where to go on our next visit.

November Snow

Several weeks ago I learned that both of my sons would be spending the Thanksgiving holiday on the west coast. The trip coast to coast is costly and time consuming, not to mention it's not a trip just to Boston but then 150 miles north into Maine by bus or train. This is the first time there will be just three of us home for Thanksgiving, and I honestly couldn't face that reality. So my daughter and I started researching our options and found a lovely B&B on Cape Cod. Ken and I have never been to "the Cape" and off-season rates are affordable. We made reservations for the three of us, and since everyone has today off we were going to make a day of it today, too. That was the plan until Mother Nature decided to start winter early with almost a foot of snow in Central Maine. The bad news is that on top of the snow we lost power at 8:30 this morning. The good news is that the power is back on, the snow has stopped, and Ken has cleared the driveway. We are getting a late start but we are still going. The best news is that the weather for the rest of the weekend looks absolutely lovely. I wish all of you a safe, snowfree Happy Thanksgiving!

Two Lost Pots

Today had promise. The sun was shining, the air was relatively warm for November, and there were projects that could be accomplished in a reasonable amount of time.

If things had gone as planned, that is.

Ken started things off by taking the bucket off the front of the tractor so he could attach the snowblower, which did not want to come off in the spring. Turns out it didn't want to go back on in the fall, either. There wasn't anything I could do to help. My strategy is always to look for answers, so I needed to just get out of the way.

I decided to start at the top of my list with re-potting the shamrocks, which flowered so beautifully this summer, so I could bring them in for the winter. I had set aside two square plastic pots the perfect size to sit down in earthen pots so the plants had proper drainage. But the pots were not where I left them or where they were before that or anywhere else I looked. I walked around the yard picking up a bit of this and that, wondering where those pots could be and deciding to move on down my list while I pondered other locations.

I wiped down the outside of the grill with glass cleaner.

Ken was still fighting with the tractor.

I put ceramic garden figures under the deck.

Then I moved inside to wash the outside of the living room windows. After thirty years of dealing with old, heavy, wood-framed windows with attached storms and screens, this house has Andersen windows that raise-and-tilt-in so that the outer pains [pun intended] can easily be wiped clean from the comfort of my living room.

At least that is how it worked the last time I washed the windows, two years ago. I am not obsessive about clean windows, so every other year is just about right. This afternoon I tried everything but I could not get any one of the six windows to release the top sash so it would tilt toward me. I could get the bottom sash to release but not one of the top windows would let go. I got online and watched a video demonstration on how to clean tilt-in windows. I was following each step correctly: raise bottom window six inches; push in clips on top of window and tilt window toward me; rest window on a stool; lower top sash until it stops; push in clips on top of the window and... it was stuck on the casing. I remember it being tight but I didn't remember having to pull on the window with such force. I checked another website for tips; I got a magnifying glass so I could read the tip strip on the inside at the top of the casing.

Finally I gave one of the top windows a good tug, and it tilted toward me. Success! I generously sprayed cleaner on the glass, wiped it with newspaper, and then went around the entire edge with a clean cloth. There!

I gently raised the window back into the casing, pushed it back in place...but it wouldn't stay up at the top. It kept sliding back down to the center of the casement. I lowered the window as far as I could, because there are clicks to listen for, and raised it again. No luck. The window would not stay up.

I broke the window. After forty-five minutes of fiddling with the windows I finally got one to tilt forward and now I couldn't get it to go back in place.

By now Ken had the snowblower attached. He walked out of the garage and I yelled down, "I broke the window!" He said he'd be right up to give me a hand, thinking that it was a simple problem.

Forty-five minutes later we had taken the window completely out of the casement, and Ken had taken the spring mechanism out of each side of the window to release the tension on the string so it would pop back into place and the window would go up and stay up once again.

Have you ever held an Andersen window in one position for forty-five minutes?

When we finished I was shaking. When I sat down to put my head between my knees, the tension released in me too. I couldn't believe the mess I got into just trying to wash the windows.

I regained my composure, put my coat back on, and determined that if nothing else I would get those shamrocks potted today. It occurred to me that the neighbor dogs may be having a bit of fun at my expense ~ I have noticed empty plant pots scattered about the driveway on the occasional morning this month. I had left the pots on the porch and that is one of the places they like to check out when they come to visit.

No matter. I found two round plastic pots in the garage that would suffice. Mission accomplished.

Ken then took the bold step of putting up the wreath I purchased yesterday. He asked if we should get the picnic table stored on the porch, but I thought that might be pushing our luck.

What I learned today:
Stay out of the way when Ken is detaching or attaching tractor implements.
Do not leave plastic pots neatly piled on the porch or under the deck.
My days of tilting windows are over.

Would You Like A Muffin With That?

In my house muffins are their own food group. They are good at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I have been known to make these delectable little treats the main course. Muffins are great snacks. I don't think I've ever met a muffin I didn't like, and right now our favorite muffin is the Apple Raisin Muffin found in I Remember...Recipes & Memories Cookbook published by the Maine Alzheimer's Association of Portland, Maine in 1999.

Apple Raisin Muffins
from Peggy Thompson of South Portland, Maine

3/4 cup vegetable oil [I use olive oil]
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
2 cups flour
3/4 tsp. baking soda
3/4 tsp. cinnamon [or less if that suits your taste]
1/2 tsp. salt
1 1/2 cups peeled, diced apples [any variety]
1/2 cup raisins
1/2 cup chopped walnuts

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Lightly grease muffin tins. Beat together oil and sugar. Add eggs and vanilla and beat until well blended. In another bowl stir flour, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt. Add these dry ingredients to oil mixture, stirring just to combine. Stir in apples, raisins, and walnuts. Bake 20 to 25 minutes for regular-sized muffins, 15 to 16 minutes for mini muffins.

Enjoy!

I Am Learning

I had planned a different post for today. I had a wonderful day with my daughter yesterday, not only because we got a lot accomplished but also because we enjoy each other's company. Today I was going to share that apple muffin recipe that has become a favorite around here. But this morning the disappointment in myself has come crashing down. Then the guilt landed hard because I have no reason to mope around ~ my life is good, my family is healthy ~ and I feel badly because I'm sad. I have errands to do and a trip out always helps. I wanted to check my reader before I left.... You know how sometimes the right words come to you at just the right moment? Well, with tears on my cheeks I want to share the poem that Jan posted today. I will be okay ~

After A While

After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of woman,
not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn.

©1971 Veronica A. Shoffstall

Wrangling

I haven't been holding up my end in the blogosphere. I so look forward to reading what everyone else posts. In comparison my life looks bland.

So what have I been up to?

The word that best describes my recent activities is wrangling, as in doing my best to get things into shape around here, including things that don't want to go quietly. I have been wrangling laundry, paperwork, and dust bunnies. I have moved furniture from room to room and right out of the house. My daughter has been doing some of her own moving/repurposing of furniture, so this past week we spent time wrangling together.

I bought frames and mats for long-neglected items. Ken got in on the act and cut three custom mats for me.

I got to the bottom of the pile of ironing, only to have it grow again when I got caught up on laundry. Oh, is there no end to the things that need to be washed and ironed?

And there was a significant purchase made. I bought new stainless flatware. The set we have was a wedding present. We found out after the wedding that it was a thank-you gift from a wholesaler to Ken's brother who sold auto parts, but it was nicer than what we had so we used it. Over the years we've talked about replacing it with a pattern of our choice but haven't for one reason or another. The last time my "crafty ladies" group met I asked them what they thought about buying new flatware ~ was it okay when the old set still worked after 34 years? One friend shared that she has had three sets in 50 years, and others shared stories about pieces that were lost and found again. Ken and I looked again online, and then I stood in front of the display at Bed, Bath and Beyond for 45 minutes handling every fork several times. I selected the one I like best of all that I've seen, and I put out a place setting for Ken to appraise when he got home. He liked it and thought it cost three times what it did, which tickled me. I'm going to buy another place-setting-for-eight so we have enough when everyone is home for the holidays and eating round the clock.

It was a good week for all things domestic. The house looks habitable again and Ken will fire up the grill tonight for what might be the last grilled chicken of the season. The snowstorm last weekend dropped just a couple inches in our yard, so we still have deck furniture and the chiminea in place.

Next week I am tackling almost-finished sewing projects because I have new ones I want to start.

Not long ago my daughter wisely said to me that it's important to detach from the outcome. We do what we can do, with the knowledge that we have no control over how things turn out. Right now there are lots of things that I can't make come round right, but by golly I can get my household in order to my heart's content.

Acorn Squash And Sausage

This is a recipe that has evolved over many years. A friend shared it with me, and I have made changes so that by the time the casserole gets to the table all I have to do is eat and enjoy. The amount made here is enough for two because that's how many I usually cook for now. I use an 8 x 10 pan that is the perfect size ~

Acorn Squash and Sausage Casserole

1 medium sized acorn squash
a pound or so of ground sausage, spicy or sweet
1 medium onion, chopped
1 cup of bread crumbs [I use dry stuffing mix]

Cut the squash in half, clean out the seeds, but leave the skin on. Make each half wet and turn upside down, with skin up, on a cookie sheet. Bake at 350 degrees until squash is tender, about 45 minutes. While squash is baking, brown sausage and onion in a skillet. Once squash is cooked, remove from oven, peel, slice and place in single layer in greased casserole. Mix bread crumbs into sausage and spread over squash. Bake at 350 until hot through and nicely browned, about 30 minutes.

I haven't tried this with other kinds of squash because I like acorn, but it would probably work with your favorite. The recipe works with any kind of sausage, although if it's a mild flavor I do spice it up with basil and oregano.

Enjoy!

That Would Be Another "No"

I forgot to tell you that I did get a bit of painting done on Monday. I slipped in a quick base coat, with another coat or two needed and on the agenda for tomorrow.

I haven't forgotten about the recipes I promised to share. Tomorrow. I promise.

I was gone most of today, and I came home to find a rejection letter in answer to my most recent job application. Qualified? Yes. Good interview? Yes. Am I just starting out? Yes. Or...at least I am trying to....

Back to the drawing board.

It Was A Monday

I like to paint. Walls, woodwork, ceilings, shingles ~ you name it and I can paint it. The prep can be tedious, and the painting itself requires attention to detail, but I love the sense of accomplishment when the job is finished.

So when my daughter needed a bit of touch up on some woodwork, I volunteered. A couple weeks ago I applied spackle to the spots. Yesterday I had time to do what should have been about twenty minutes of painting.

It was Monday. I should have known things would not go smoothly....

I am a firm believer that paint can be used as long as its usable, no matter how old it is. Experts at the paint counter have tried to talk me out of this belief but to no avail. The paint will often outlive the can, which was the case with the unmarked can of trim paint I brought up from the cellar at my daughter's house yesterday. I opened the can and started stirring, when the can started leaking. I am not unaccustomed to this problem so I had set the can on a plastic bag [always set a paint can on something that protects the surface below because you never know]. The can was in worse shape than I expected so I needed reinforcement plastic bags while I found another container for the paint.

The search sent me to the cabinet under the kitchen sink. I figured while I was down there I would look for the organic drain cleaner I remembered buying because the bathroom sink was draining slowly.

Everything was wet. Uh oh. The drain inset in the kitchen sink was loose again and water had seeped through to below. I pulled everything out from the cabinet, pitched everything that was waterlogged, and placed a bucket under the drain to catch any other drips until we could get someone in to fix it.

I then poured the trim paint into a plastic bucket, but before I started painting I thought I could unclog the bathroom sink with a plunger. After all, the painting would only take a few minutes and I had water on my mind....

It was a good plan in theory. Unfortunately, when I started plunging the sink water started backing up in the bathtub. Huh. This development seemed to indicate a larger problem.

I called my daughter's neighbor who has rescued us from these situations over the years. I thought he could recommend a plumber. The call went to voicemail, so I called Ken [working in New Hampshire this week] to see what he thought. Well, he could check things out on Friday. That wouldn't work. I made this mess and I couldn't leave my daughter without a working bathroom sink or tub.

An hour and a half had passed. I needed help. I caught another neighbor as he was coming home from work, a second person who has helped us with home repairs over the years [we were fortunate for years to have such skilled neighbors, and now they graciously help my daughter]. I asked him if he could recommend a plumber. He asked what the problem was. I explained the situation, and he said he could take a look.

It turns out that all the plumbing was involved in the problem. As he worked, the kitchen sink started gurgling, too, which meant the clog was somewhere down the line. He took the kitchen sink apart and used rags to stop up the kitchen pipe, the bathtub pipe and both drains in the bathroom sink. He plunged. He adjusted rags. He went back and forth between the bathroom and kitchen, and he plunged some more. The clog finally let go and water started draining in the bathroom. Woohoo!

He got the bathroom all put back together and went to work on the kitchen. I said that we'd need to have that drain inset looked at soon, and he said he thought he had a replacement part in his truck...and sure enough he did. He took care of that problem on the spot. He had the part because another neighbor up the street had just given him extra parts he had left over from the kitchen counter work he does.

Sighhhhhh. I was so grateful for his help. I couldn't imagine telling my daughter upon her return from a twelve-hour workday that I had inadvertently clogged all her plumbing.

The neighbor had said to me when I first explained the problem that it wasn't the end of the world. It felt that way because I didn't know how to fix the mess. As I watched him work I could see how satisfying it was for him to make things work again. I feel that way when I know how to do something and figure out how to fix a problem...

which tells me I should stick to painting.

Self Indulgence

Three nights last week I made delicious dinners: meatloaf, mashed potatoes, fresh kale, and warm homemade applesauce on Wednesday; quesadillas, Spanish rice, and kale salad on Thursday; and baked acorn squash with sausage and breadcrumbs on Friday. I was on a roll.

Then we had leftovers all weekend. Saturday I made oatmeal cookies.

I still had enough tidbits this week to keep me fed and happy while Ken was out of town.

Tonight I made vegetable bean soup, with pinto beans left over from the quesadillas [a recipe that is so good I will share it when I get the cookbook, a computer, and my glasses in the same room], kale salad, and apple muffins [another new recipe that is wonderful].

There was a shift from the dread of having to make dinner to thinking about what might taste good for dinner. The only expectations were the ones I put on myself...

and I carried that thinking right into the first three days this week. I don't have a cold or the flu. I haven't just had surgery. In fact I'm in excellent health. That doesn't mean that I can't take a few days off once in a while.

I spent three days without one "should."

It was heaven.

I spent one whole day in my quiet house with nothing on my agenda other than reading Julia's blog from the beginning. I started reading her sometime last year because my daughter kept sharing funny vignettes about Julia's kids. I'd been curious about her story and decided to take time to read it, and I'm glad I did. Julia persevered. She said it might not make sense to others that she wasn't giving up, but that was okay. Though our situations are in no way alike, I totally understand her unwillingness to let go of her heart's desire.

That doesn't mean that it's not a good idea to take a break once in a while.

Other things I did this week included eating Twizzlers, going to the movies with my daughter, hanging quilts on the clothesline for that fresh air smell, enjoying Netflix offerings that I know don't interest Ken, and taking long baths.

I feel refreshed. The laundry got done today and the car will get inspected tomorrow.

The world goes on whether I'm paying attention or not.

Not Giving Up

Have you ever been in the middle of a project when you were ready to give up? You'd tried everything you could think of, nothing was working, and you wanted to give up. But you couldn't. You were smack dab in the middle ~ you couldn't go back because too many things had changed, and you couldn't go forward because you couldn't see the path ahead.

Then something happens, an event or a conversation.

Or nothing happens, or nothing visible to the eye happens. Maybe enough time passes that things work out, or the perspective about the process changes, or the desired outcome is no longer the same. It's possible to not be aware that things have changed until they have.

This train of thought just put me in mind of a quote from the movie Life As a House. The main character, George, shares an insight: "Change can be so constant that you don't even feel a difference until there is one. It can be so slow that you don't know that your life is better or worse until it is...or it can just blow you away and make you something different in an instant."

I'm still making sense of all the pieces.

Two things happened this week that started me thinking about all of this....

The first thing ~ I have small pads of paper all over the house. This week I changed over my sewing table from the small cabinet I've used for many years to a modern computer desk that gives me more room to work. In moving things around I discovered various notes I've taken while sewing. One caught my attention. On August 15 I wrote: The person I am now is not content with the life I have, yet that life until this moment has made me the person I have become. I didn't know how to reconcile those two things.

I didn't know what to do at the time. Things felt out of my control so I stopped thinking I had control over anything. I couldn't give up because it was my life that I was in the middle of. I did give in, slow down, and focus on each day.

It has been two months since I wrote those words.

Then this week the second thing happened. I was talking to a friend about what I've been up to lately. All of a sudden she said, "Sharon, you're making a life." Her comment took us both by surprise, but she's right.

Slowly, without realizing it, I am making a life that suits the person I am now.

Every Shade Of Blue

We have made the most of the summer-like weather we are having this holiday weekend. Today Ken and I went to Popham Beach to take a walk. Nature is having its way and the beach has changed again since I was there last. Everything changes. Fortunately, the sky still holds every shade of blue.

October Begins

Four days into the month...

and I am hopeful that October will hold true to form and bring positive changes.

I feel good about the job interview I had today.

A quick count tells me that I'm coming up on a double-digit number of interviews. I have not felt good after every one, but I have felt successful after about half of them. We know how that has worked out. Or not.

Last night my stomach was upset. This after a day where my face broke out, typical with stress, and my left eye periodically twitched, a symptom of anxiety. I thought I was past worrying about interviews but apparently not.

I spent yesterday doing household chores, between scrubbing my face and checking the mirror to see if the twitch in my eye was obvious. With the onset of the upset stomach last night, I knew I needed to find a way to calm down or I wasn't going to make it to the interview today. I took a hot shower, bypassed the vitamins I usually take at night, and thought positive thoughts as I climbed between clean sheets.

Thankfully, I felt better all around this morning. I reminded myself that what happens... happens.

That thought helped me get through the interview, which included a more detailed description of the job and a good conversation with three women who are committed to helping the people in their community.

That thought hasn't helped me set aside how much I want the job. It's a newly formed grant-funded position, and ideas about how to make it work keep occurring to me.

It has been awhile since I was this excited about a position or felt like it was a job that would be an excellent fit for me.

I have done what I can do and now I need to wait. They are interviewing through October so it will be some weeks before I hear anything. The time will pass and I will know soon enough.

Tick, tick, tick....

Married And Dating

I am dating a married man.

My husband.

We had a moment at dinner early last week where we each said what the other had been thinking: we can't keep going this way. Each one of us has become comfortable without the other. We spend a lot of time apart for lots of reasons, and it has become too much work to reconnect when we are together.

I think we need a good fight to get things rolling in the right direction, but we don't fight. I enjoy a good argument, a battle of words that express different viewpoints and positions. Ken does not. So we don't argue. Instead we simmer and stew, and as time goes by we get quieter and quieter...until we really don't need to talk at all.

This isn't the first time we have been through this routine but each time it's easier to slip into. The difference this time is that we have no one around to pull us back into conversation. That's why we decided sooner rather than later that we needed to do something about the situation, because there is no one else anymore. There's just us.

The next night I made a nice dinner and we made a point to talk to each other. The following night we made a fire in the chimenea on the deck, cooked dinner over the fire, and enjoyed eating outside in the warm evening air. The following night we went out to dinner and a movie. Last night I made another nice meal, and again tonight Ken cooked dinner over a fire.

I asked Ken last evening if we are dating. He said he thought so.

Tomorrow we are going to the Common Ground Fair, which we attended last year for the first time in many years. We had such a good time, and we are looking forward to going again.

So here we are in our 35th year of marriage. I don't think it's ever going to be easy for us. Maybe it's not easy for anyone, people just pretend that it is. Maybe there are couples who sail through life together, and I hope they know how lucky they are.

We feel lucky to be able to say we are still here.

What Do I Know?

I have been so tired.

Last night I dropped my clothes on the floor, climbed into bed, and slept for eight hours. I can't remember the last time I had a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

I woke up feeling good and started thinking about what I need to do to prepare to apply for teaching positions. I have spotted a few openings that are so tempting that I am willing to tackle all the paperwork needed to apply. Schools require written letters of reference, proof of certification, and a completed application specific to their district; and often they also ask for an applicant's philosophy of education, college transcript, sample lesson, and proof of qualification. I have decided it's time to expand my search field to once again include teaching.

The phone rang just after 8:30 a.m. It was a woman calling about an application I submitted three weeks ago for a brand new position working with community members in a town about 25 miles from here. Was I still interested in an interview? Yes. How about a meeting on October 4? I will be there.

And my day was started. I made soup, baked a pie, did laundry, and started a more detailed search for teacher openings. It is going to require some effort to pull together everything I need for applications, but at this point I need to keep going while I have some momentum building.

I feel like I don't know anything anymore in this job search process. I can't get a sense for what might work and what won't. I have no way to know who I might hear from or what they are looking for.

The only thing I know to do is to keep trying.

One More Year

I have two sets of lottery numbers that I play. One set is based on family birthdates, so those never change. The other set is based on ages, so those change as birthdays roll around. The Powerball number is the number of years that I have been married.

Today I added one to that number because our anniversary is tomorrow.

Thirty-four years.

Last year I posted photos of the lobster dinner we ate to celebrate. This year we are returning to New Harbor with friends for what I am sure will be another delicious meal.

I recently commented on someone's post that it is a challenge to be married to the same person for 34 years. Each of us has changed so much that we are not the same people we were all those years ago. So much has happened in our lives that we are nowhere near where we were when we started our life together.

I don't have the romantic view of marriage that some people have. I said to one of my children not long ago that I don't believe in the concept of soulmates, the idea that there is one right match for each individual. When Ken and I met, we had each just ended a relationship. I have no doubt that we would have each found someone else if we hadn't found each other.

We did find each other. After a few months we made the decision to be together, and we married two and a half years after we met. Ken and I had time to really get to know each other. We couldn't see the future, but we had a good idea what life together would be like before we said "I do." I used to say that we got the "dreaded first two years" out of the way before we got married.

Even after all that, there have been a fair number of ups and downs through the years. There have been times when I wasn't sure we would make it to the next anniversary. Then something shifts and we adapt and the course runs smooth for a time. I think that's true of any relationship that lasts as long as ours has.

So here's to making it one more year. Maybe 34 will be a lucky number ~

His Bags Are Packed

Eighteen days ago when my son T moved home from Boston I was grateful we would have some time together before he left for Seattle.

It has been a better visit than I could have imagined.

We made trips to renew his driver's license, to buy clothes and luggage suitable for a grad student, and to take care of all those things he needed to take care of. Last night we went out to dinner so we could watch the Patriots' first game of the season.

T went to the dentist, caught up with friends, and attended an ex-girlfriend's wedding.

He has sorted through everything he owns. He has cleaned out, organized, donated, and made decisions about what to store and what to take with him....

And tonight he packed his bags.

Wednesday afternoon he will get on a bus in Portland for Boston, where he will spend the night with friends. Thursday morning he will get on a plane at Logan Airport for Seattle.

He will be home at Christmas. We will make a trip out there next spring.

It's not for ever, but it is for at least a year.

And I miss him already.

Zucchini Relish

Back when we had two small children, Ken and I tried our hand at canning. We had a neighbor with a large garden, and he often shared his surplus. We canned tomatoes, green beans, pickles, and zucchini relish. My favorite of these was zucchini relish, which I hadn't thought about for many years...until my friend in town gave me two large zucchini. I couldn't resist ~ found the recipe, fired up the food processor [which we didn't have lo those many years ago when we grated everything by hand], and put together a batch of relish. It's hard to capture the beauty of this particular relish, and I finally resorted to taking a jar outside with the hope that the natural light would shine through the beautiful color ~

I will share the recipe with the caveat that it is sweet. I remembered that after a taste test, when I also remembered that I cut down on the sugar in the days when I made a second batch.

Zucchini Relish (makes 7 pints)

Grate 10 cups of zucchini and 4 cups of onion. In a large pan combine the two and add 5 Tbsp. pickling salt; let sit 8-10 hours.

Rinse and drain.

Grate 2 red peppers and 2 green peppers; add those to the zucchini and onion mix with 1 Tbsp. cornstarch, 1 Tbsp. tumeric, 1/2 tsp. pepper, 5 cups sugar, and 2 1/2 cups white vinegar.

Mix everything and bring to a boil. Simmer 30 minutes. Pack into hot jars and process 15 minutes in boiling water bath.

This is good with anything grilled, and we will enjoy it all winter long as a reminder of the taste of summer.

Power: On

Late yesterday afternoon we were making plans for dinner at our favorite diner when there was a knock at the door. It was our next-door neighbor who wanted us to know that power had been restored. His wife had called him at work, and on his way home he heard our generator still running. It was doubly nice to talk to him because he shared that they have a new baby at their house.

On our way to dinner we checked out the status of the telephone pole, which hadn't been replaced after all. The power company sawed off the splintered top and extended the pole with an insulated pin. Good as new.

I got home from dinner just in time to host a monthly neighborhood meeting in a quiet living room fully lit, thankfully, by electricity. It turns out the store-bought cookies were just as good as my usually homemade ones.

This morning it was time to tackle the laundry that has accumulated, along with all that my son brought home with him. There will be time to vacuum and get organized. It doesn't feel so much like a chore now that I have the luxury of turning all the appliances on.

Homemade spaghetti is going to taste good tonight.

Not An Orange Truck In Sight

Our power company has easily recognizable orange trucks. So far I haven't seen one on our road, and we are at 68 hours without power. I was encouraged Monday afternoon when the fallen tree closest to our house ~

Got the attention it needed to no longer be a problem ~

I walked further down our road to see that this tree had also been cleared away ~

By Tuesday afternoon every bit of wood from both trees had been salvaged by neighbors for firewood. I hoped it would only be a matter of hours before power would be restored. This morning I walked down the road to see if there had been any further progress and heard work being done on a neighbor's new garage, where I learned we are waiting for a new telephone pole before power can be restored. When the oak tree fell across the road it took with it the top of the pole standing in the way, and there are only so many pole trucks.... It might be a while longer. Ken is working in New Hampshire. I'm lucky my youngest son is home to help me start the generator - I can do everything but pull the ripcord hard enough to get it started. It's a bittersweet visit because T is home for two weeks before he moves to Seattle for graduate school. I am looking for the silver lining. Walking up and down the road I have met more of my neighbors, which is a good thing because I may need their help with the ripcord in the next storm. I have one more photo to share that I am glad I took on Saturday ~

A single bloom for a single day on my hibiscus, which hasn't bloomed since December 2009 ~

Powered By A Generator

By the time Hurricane Irene got to Maine, she was a tropical storm. That didn't stop her from dropping inches of rain early Sunday and hurling intense winds Sunday afternoon.

We still had power until two trees fell on electric lines sometime after 3:00 p.m. We didn't know what the problem was at first. After a bit of time Ken walked down the driveway to meet a town emergency vehicle, when he learned what was waiting for power crews just around the bend in our road.

Last night, just before dark, Ken started up our portable generator. We ran it for a few hours to keep the fridge cold, the lights on, and so we could take showers. This morning he started it back up before he left for work, so it will purr contentedly outside the family room window most of the day. The stove, microwave, dishwasher, washer and dryer draw too much power to use, but the well pump and coffeemaker can run so life is good.

I have taken a few photos but am not sure how to download them onto Ken's laptop, which I am using because it will hold a charge. If I figure that out or decide to risk turning on the desktop, I will post pics later. The problem is that plugged-in computers draw a lot of power, and we're not sure it's good for the computer, either. So for now words will have to do.

I can check email and facebook and may get around to some of your blogs later today. It's true that I am lost without my "reader" and my bookmarks.

The sun is out and there's a light breeze. What a difference a day makes.

Life Comes Back

As weather turned cold last fall I decided to bring inside geranium and shamrock plants that did well in pots last summer. This year it looked doubtful that they would match the glory of their first summer. In the last few weeks the geranium has exploded with fresh green leaves and vibrant red flowers ~
The shamrock has more leaves and flowers than ever ~

Today these plants brought to mind my favorite quote~

Then, when it seems we will never smile again, life comes back.

[author unknown]

A Dedicated Post

With my daughter's help I started this blog exactly three years and five months ago.

This is post number five hundred. That's five zero zero.

I had no idea. I don't keep track and know this tidbit only because I was in the edit room knocking about and checking the shelves to see if there was anything to recycle. I have been in clean-it-up and clear-it-out mode for weeks now. All my drawers are organized, and my closets look more like closets and less like fully stocked storage units.

I knew little about blogging when I started this gig. My daughter followed blogs as a college student and started one as a med student, when there were no handy dandy templates and she had to figure out how to write code to get what she wrote to show up on the interwebs. Over time I gained a basic understanding of what a blog was and figured out how to follow her online journal.

In the spring of 2008 I wanted to touch base with friends and family more often than I was. My daughter encouraged me to start a blog and I kept saying no, until she sat me down one day and took me through the process step by step.

This endeavor has been moderately successful as a way to keep in touch with old friends and minimally successful as a way to let family know what I'm up to. However, blogging has been a huge success as a way to connect with other women. Many of you have become good friends and I am grateful to know you.

And I owe it all to my daughter. I couldn't have done it without you, K. Thank you for your patience and encouragement. While I had no idea, you knew it all along.

Here's to the next 500 ~

Days Of Daylilies

Two years ago I received a box of daylily plants in the mail. A friend in Massachusetts was thinning out her plants, of which she has hundreds, and thought I would enjoy a few for my garden. Last year there was a handful of flowers and I enjoyed every one. It can take a period of years for transplanted daylilies to settle in and bloom so this year I have been surprised to have at least one flower a day for the last four weeks ~

The ruffled orange among the maple leaves made me smile ~

The nicest surprise has been the beautiful blooms that appeared on rainy days ~

I have not seen this almost-white color anywhere else ~

We have had steady rain for the last two days, and tonight my mood matches the weather. There is more rain predicted for Thursday and Friday, but a big yellow sun is on tomorrow's weather map. I will be pleasantly surprised if there are any daylily buds left to bloom ~

Seasoned, Not Stirred

Thanks to all of you for your supportive comments. I did attend two workshops at the local career center today and I learned some interesting things.

The biggest surprise I had was that in the current job market I am considered a "seasoned" worker. There is actually a guy who holds seminars to educate career counselors about the discrimination against older workers, now called seasoned workers, a phrase he has coined.

The category includes workers who are 55 and older.

I laughed out loud. Really? This is my latest label?

When I returned to college at age 33 I was called a "nontraditional" student. I bought that for about five minutes, and then I laughed when I learned that one third of the student body looked like me. We didn't need our own label. A student is a student is a student.

Just as a worker is a worker is a worker. I don't need a special label.

I don't feel seasoned or old. In fact I said out loud to a group at the morning break that I feel the best I've felt in ten years ~ physically better, mentally better...and to myself I included spiritually better. Then I said that I could outrun any one of them:)

Other than learning that I'm in a new category I knew nothing about, the information was helpful and the day was productive. I was again encouraged to apply for a job with state government, and that idea seemed valid until I got home and looked online to find about a dozen jobs listed. Soooooo I will need to further investigate that avenue.

There may be a contact to be made through someone the instructor knows at a local nonprofit. She mentioned the woman as an example of someone we could call to request an informational interview, where we sit down with someone to learn more about the jobs offered by an organization without actually interviewing for a job. At the end of the afternoon workshop I stopped to ask if it would be a good idea for me to give the woman a call, and the instructor offered to mention my name and intention to call when she speaks to her friend tomorrow.

I feel positive about the day I had. It's not that anything specific has happened. It's that there are things I can do to keep moving in the right direction. It's that I feel like I am making minute bits of progress and that gives me the encouragement I need to continue the job search.

Onward ~

It's August

August is off to a roaring start in these parts.

* * * * * * * *

We came to the decision to sell our 1999 Subaru Legacy Sedan, known affectionately as Loretta. The problems with the engine continue and now she needs a right rear brake. She does still run, and I hoped that someone who knows Subaru cars would be interested in giving her a newer engine and a few more years. Last week I placed an ad in Uncle Henry's, a local for-sale magazine that lets you list items for free if your ad is 15 words or less. The magazine is available each Thursday and that morning I got my first phone call at 7:12. By Friday I had received four phone calls and decided to meet with the owner of a local auto repair shop who offered me more than I asked without even seeing the car. Two hours later he came by for a look-see and liked the car. He has an engine that needs a home and thinks Loretta will fill the bill. We drove her over to his place on Saturday. It was sad to see her go but it was the right decision for us.

* * * * * * * *

We have had warm temperatures and rain most every day this month. Yesterday was cool with steady rain, so Ken and I headed to the movie theater to find more people than we've ever seen at the cinemaplex in Brunswick. We were looking forward to seeing "Crazy, Stupid Love." With the line almost out the door we turned around and decided to try again another day.

* * * * * * * *

Up until just a few days ago I was holding out hope that I would be able to write a different type of post today. I had what I thought was a good job interview a couple weeks ago. A few days later the program manager called at least one of my references, so I felt good about that, too. Then on Thursday I received the dreaded rejection letter. The good news is that I got a letter at all and that it was personalized. The bad news is that I didn't get a job. Most telling was the last sentence in the second paragraph: "I do hope that you will have success in finding a position that will make use of your education."

This is important information for me to have because it confirms what I have thought for awhile now. It appears to people who know me only through my resume and a brief interview that I have a good amount of education and this is not balanced with the right amount of experience.

I take responsibility for not adequately relaying my passion for and desire to do the work for which I am applying. There is a missing link that I am obviously not able to find on my own.

So today I called the Southern Midcoast Career Center to reserve a place on Wednesday for the morning Resume & Cover Letter Workshop and the afternoon Job Search & Interviewing Workshop. It has been over two years since I had help with my resume and I have been told that templates have changed in that time.

I feel my disappointment in the pit of my stomach. My renewed job search has shown me that I can get in the door but I can't close the deal. It worries me that I feel bitter. Again I am angry with myself and every decision I've made in the last three decades. I can't keep going back to that place because it doesn't help ~ negative thinking will not improve the situation.

So I made a phone call, checked a website online, and found a career center that offers the workshops this week. I called to reserve space before I had time to change my mind.

I can't be afraid to hear what I need to do if I am serious about finding a job.

The journey continues....

It's Not Personal

I was dubious about writing a book review, something I have not done before, but I wanted to help my online friend Cindy Hampel. When she asked me to write a review for her book I told her I would, while I knew if I didn’t want to recommend the book I would gracefully bow out.

Cindy sent me a copy of her book titled It’s Not Personal: Lessons I’ve Learned from Dealing with Difficult Behavior.* I opened the envelope and set the book aside, not sure how to begin. Then I decided I should begin reading at the beginning. That was a good idea because in the preface Cindy explains the basis for the book and how it came to be written. The book is a compilation of stories based on her personal experience and what she learned about how to deal with difficult people.

The book reads like a journal. Each chapter is a few pages long with a concise piece of advice at the end, such as this gem at the end of Chapter 1, “Difficult behavior is a window, not a mirror…so don’t take it personally.” I found myself nodding as I read. Many of the situations were familiar to ones I had experienced and the advice made sense to me.

Yet I wasn’t sure how to write a review. What could I say about someone’s writing where she shares stories and what she learned from each situation? How could I have an opinion about a body of work that is so personal?

Then my life got busy, and when I was about halfway through the book I set it aside for a few days. I had the opportunity to see friends, and I had conversations with different family members.

I was particularly frustrated after one conversation. I had tried to share an idea with someone who couldn’t see my point of view; I couldn’t make myself understood. Then I had the thought, it’s not personal. And that was exactly what it was: the person could only see what was in their interest and could not hear what I was trying to say. It was the first time I had been able to reflect on a conversation with this person and not wonder what I could have done differently. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t personal.

That’s when I knew I wanted to finish the book and write a post about the helpful, practical advice the book has to offer. Any relationship could be substituted for each situation that is described, and the gem of wisdom at the end of each chapter could relate to a variety of situations. This is a book that I will reference in the future to remind myself that it’s not personal when I find myself dealing with difficult behavior.

I recommend this book for anyone who would like to have a better understanding of difficult behavior and how to be more at ease in relationships with difficult people.


*Copyright 2011 by Cindy Hampel, Orange Sun Press, Royal Oak, MI.

Keep Moving

When I climbed on the treadmill on Sunday it had been eleven days since my last yoga class and thirteen days since my last intentional "walk."

I had good reasons. There was company and hot weather and a trip to Boston. And I did walk through gardens and down city streets.

It's just not the same as walking at a good pace on the treadmill or doing an hour of yoga. I have done at least thirty minutes on the treadmill each day this week and attended a yoga class last evening.

My body is thanking me.

And that's the issue. Now that I have concrete evidence of how differently I feel one week to the next, when one week includes intentional movement and one week does not, I know I have to keep moving.

I am grateful every day that I have the mobility I have. I have friends who have limited mobility for a variety of reasons, such as arthritis and old injuries. Every time Ken and I take a walk we reflect on how fortunate we are to be healthy and able to move about freely.

I have had the luxury of time to establish habits of exercise, another thing for which I am grateful.

The lesson of the last three weeks is that I need to keep moving no matter what else is going on in my life. If I don't have the time, I need to make the time.

Through The Looking Glass

Early Friday morning Ken and I set off for two days in Boston. The weather forecast was for "hot" but we found ways to deal with that: an air-conditioned Concord Trailways bus, bottled water, and an afternoon at the Museum of Fine Arts. The hottest part of the day was getting to my son's apartment, but even that was bearable as most of the trek was on an air-conditioned subway. We were all looking forward to seeing the Chihuly exhibit at the MFA ~
The exhibit, titled "Through the Looking Glass," did not disappoint us. The crowds were small so we could get close enough to take photos, and we could spend as much time as we wanted with each display. I don't usually share this many photos in a single post, but I don't know how many of you around the country will have access to this amazing exhibit of blown glass by the truly unique artist Chihuly. Here are my favorites:

Ikebana Boat, on a reflective surface, from the front ~

Ikebana Boat from the end ~

Tabac Baskets are thin glass bowls displayed on an enormous plank of Douglas fir ~

Mille Fiori means "thousand flowers" ~

It was hard to pick a favorite part of Mille Fiori, but I was partial to the blues and greens ~

The Persian Ceiling has hundreds of individual pieces, lit from above ~

Many put us in mind of the ocean ~

Especially the occasional mermaid ~

This Boston exhibit contains six chandeliers, the most Chihuly has had in one display. My favorite was the yellow one, shown here next to one that is dark blue and orange ~

The last display in the exhibit hall was called Neodymium Reeds, for the lavender/blue color of the tapers ~

We were delighted to find this 42-foot Lime Green Icicle Tower in the cafe outside the hall, one more piece to examine and enjoy ~

If I lived closer to Boston I would visit the exhibit again, but it's only there through August 7, so I will have to hope to see his work in another place someday. (Of course when I get back to Las Vegas I can pay another visit to his ceiling at the Bellagio:)

Just Another Day

Late Tuesday morning Ken left a message on our home answering machine. I had been outside saying good-bye to our company when he called ~

"Hello, Sharon. This is your husband. I'm calling to see how the company is making out...and a few other things. I will call you later."

It's always the "few other things" I worry about.

I waited as long as I could and gave him a call last night. I told him our friends were on their way and asked what was going on with him.

He had been standing on a four-foot ladder when his feet got tangled up and he fell, catching his arm on a screw on the way down. Eleven stitches and a tetanus shot later he went back to work.

Last night he was doing okay. He had extra strong antibiotic ointment to apply and wasn't feeling too uncomfortable.

I worry about certain aspects of Ken's job. He finds himself in precarious situations and almost always he comes through unscathed. Fortunately his current job is in a medical center so help was close at hand.

Last weekend we were talking about the physical demands of Ken's job when someone noticed the scratches on his hands. Ken chuckled and said that some of that comes with the territory.

Ken likes his job and is good at what he does. I still worry.

Company From California

Our company from California arrived Friday afternoon. They brought their own 42-foot accommodations with them, as well as their canine traveling companions. Notice Alpine, a standard poodle, playing at the back of the rig ~
While Daisy, a pointer/lab mix, found a cool place under the deck to have a rest ~

On Saturday we attended a free concert at LL Bean in Freeport. It was a gorgeous evening to hear Marty and Ellie of the Court Yard Hounds, formerly of the Dixie Chicks, fiddle and strum ~

In front of a large friendly crowd of relaxed concert-goers ~

On Sunday we drove to the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens in Boothbay, 248 acres of paths and gardens ~

Out-buildings and full-to-the-brim flowerbeds ~

Ponds and water features ~

And paths through the woods which may lead you to the fairy village ~

It's always a pleasure to see Bonnie, a friend from the time my daughter was an infant more than 31 years ago. We don't see each other often, so we make the most of the time we have when we get together ~

Summer feels like summer with a visit from an old friend.

Color, Lots Of Color

In February I lined up all the pieces I had of fabric designed by Martha Negley. I left that array on the back of a chair in the family room for weeks ~


Then I felt ready to cut large squares. Once I knew what I wanted I was excited to put scissors to material, but then I had to duplicate the look of a progression of color ~

Playing with the actual layout of pieces led me to the effect I wanted. It has been so much fun to see the colors play with each other and come together from one corner ~

To another ~

Two halves will soon make a whole ~