Archive | November 2015


I am sitting at my children’s soon-to-be-laden table on this very early Thanksgiving morning. The moon still hangs heavy and full as it makes is descent towards morning somewhere else in the world. My precious family still lays sleeping upstairs, lost in their dreams. The days of November have flown like so many autumn leaves and suddenly, it seems, I am poised on the edge of December. December will be over before we know it and we will be on the brink of a new year. And I will be a year older and hopefully wiser.


As I sit here and reflect….which I seem to do a lot these days…the reflecting part that is, my heart is filled to overflowing with gratitude for my countless blessings and tender mercies. Despite the bumps in the road, the unmet dreams, the hiccups that seem to arise as a part of life…I am blessed. Extraordinarily blessed.

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My greatest treasures are upstairs sleeping and the rest of my treasures live in different states where time and circumstance prevent them from being here with us. Despite that distance, we are tied by our heartstrings, by our memories, by the deep love we share. My family is my greatest blessing.

I could take up space here listing all my gratitudes and your are so lucky I am not doing that because you would be here reading for a very long time. If you haven’t done so already, grab a notebook and begin a daily habit of recording all those miracles and blessings and moments of profound gratitude in a gratitude journal. I have done this for years. Sometimes when I partake of a bit of tear-water tea (read it in Arnold Lobel’s Owl at Home….delightful), I have only to open my gratitude journals and steep myself in a wonderfully delicious brew of memories and small miracles that replace any maudlin  thinking. You will be so grateful that you do this. I promise.

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I hope that wherever you are, that you find yourself in the middle of your family and your Thanksgiving; or at least wrapped in sweet memories of them. I hope that your heart fills with gratitude for your own tender mercies, miracles and blessings.

I wish you peace, my friend. Make beautiful memories and baste them with the richness of love. Happy Thanksgiving.

(The falling leaf image (which I love) is from the Habitually Chic blog.)



This entry was posted on November 26, 2015. 6 Comments

What the heck?

A voice from the dust…

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My Friends!!! I have not written a blog post since April. GASP!! Forgive me. Suddenly it is the last day of October…Halloween…and I realize that the days, like the leaves on the trees, have come and turned and are being wildly blown away.

I traveled here and there and back again many times. This summer I found myself surrounded by my Grandlings and perfectly deliriously happy making the best memories. Moreover, I thought to myself that if you could only know how happy I was here in the center of life and love and a pure perfect summer you would forgive me for not writing. I have never laughed as much as I did this summer with my Grandlings, who have the most delightful senses of humor. What a precious gift…laughter. I am so blessed and do not take being loved by them lightly. It is a sacred trust to me to be loved so deeply and purely. I love them all with every single part of me. I am amazed by the human heart’s capacity to love. I also realize that we are pretty much born with an ability to love. I see my little one-year-old Grandling reach up to me and kiss me for no other reason than she loves me. My heart fills with a deep joy to see her constantly reach for me when I am with her. It is innate, that ability to love, as is the need each of us has to be loved.

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On train trips and plane trips, car trips and ferry rides I have a lot of time to think. So in all that travel times, I have random thinks, which is sometimes dangerous. Back when Saturday Night Live was actually funny and fairly decent, they used to show a black screen with the words, “Deep thoughts by Jack Handey” and a disembodied voice would gently and quietly speak a deep thought thunk by Jack. A deep though such as: “Consider the daffodil. And while you’re doing that, I will be over here, looking through your stuff.” I find it funny because…well it’s just funny. (Obviously it doesn’t take a lot to tickle my funny bone.) My thoughts are not quite as deep as Jack’s, but they are nonetheless random and so…for your thinking pleasure, I will share some of the thoughts I’ve thunk as I traveled miles and miles.

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Like…toilet seat covers, for instance. I am toilet seat cover inept. I either pull them out and they tear beyond usage, or they come out but I tear them trying to get the center part out (for obvious reasons…and don’t ask me how I know this, but you actually do need to pull that part out) and usually when i’m in a hurry, which is a pretty constant state for me. Or when the dispenser is so full, I pull out half a dozen when I only need one. This summer I went into a beautiful McDonald’s restaurant and there, in the bathroom was a seat cover dispenser where all you needed to do was to push the lever down and a perfectly pristine seat cover, with the center already open, presented itself. Why aren’t there more of that variety of toilet seat dispensers in the world? A thing of beauty and convenience, I tell you. Seat cover users unite!

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Or like…eyelash curlers. I spent so much of my life looking for the perfect eyelash curler. I realize that those things are perfectly useless, unless I want a fold line at the base of my seemingly shrinking eyelashes. I discovered that using good mascara with a perfect brush totally eliminates the need for eyelash curlers. And for the record, I once used a spoon to curl my lashes…a skill I learned in my dorm at college (oh the valuable things I learned); but I gave it up when I discovered my eyelashes lying in a fetal position on the bathroom counter.

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And speaking of eyelashes, my daughter-in-law took her Groupon coupon to a participating salon and got eyelash extensions. About a month before she did this, I saw a salon advertising eyelash extensions and thought to myself, what next? I could not even fathom such a thing. Then I saw them. On my daughter-in-law. She looks incredible. They made her eyes look like the female characters in Disney animated movies. My son calls her eyes Disney eyes. She does not wear any other make-up. Just those lashes. She doesn’t need anything else. I tell you, had I indiscriminate funds…I would get eyelash extensions every month or however long they last. I am tempted to throw over food for beautiful eyelash extensions. Maybe it all equals out in the end. I would never need to buy eye make-up again. But then…I probably wouldn’t have beautiful Disney eyes like she has.

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News of the weird, which I refer to as…what-the-heck? I have had the opportunity to learn about things I never thought possible. For example, one of my nursing daughters-in-law is a super milk-producing woman. I want to call her Elsie. She has and had so much milk! They had a small freezer entirely full of nothing but her milk in their laundry room! Kinda floored me every single time I opened that freezer…plastic packets of frozen white, all of it dated and organized. They moved from Portland to Montana this summer, which necessitated getting rid of all that milk. My DIL is a savvy girl and knew that where there is a supply, there is generally a demand. She got online. Now the crazy thing I learned is that mother’s milk is a very sellable commodity. Who woulda thunk it? And not only by people who have children who need human milk, but by others. There are cheese makers in Portland (which does not actually surprise me) who make cheese from human milk. Um….. I did not see this particular cheese at the New Seasons store. She ended up selling her milk for $150 or thereabouts to a family with an infant whose mother was unable to nurse and this infant was allergic to every single kind of milk out there except for human milk. In this case, it was lifesaving. As I thought about it, I figured selling her breast milk was the modern version of a wet-nurse.

2015-09-19 22.00.51Second item of what-the-heck? So apparently, if you have a loved one with tattoos that you dearly love…the tattoo-ee and the tattoo itself, of course…and the tattooed loved one passes on, you can have that particular portion of their skin with your favorite tattoo removed, dried, pressed and returned to you…framed, no less, well after the funeral. Um….. To each his own, I suppose. Someone in the comment column, completely offended by one not so clearly enamored of this idea, said that a tastefully framed picture of your loved one’s dried and pressed tattooed skin was not any different than having an urn of your dearly departed loved one’s ashes on your mantle. Havin’ a little headshake moment here.

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I have hopefully given you some food for thought…something to gnaw on while in the wilderness of your mind…at least for a moment or two possibly. Happy Halloween to you and may you find little monsters, superheroes, princesses and goblins of only the best kind at your door tonight.

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This entry was posted on November 1, 2015. 9 Comments