Saying Good-Bye to the Past

Today my mind is suffering writer's block, so I'll just scribble and doodle.

Yesterday we hauled out 20 boxes of stuff from our attic, drove them over to an auction house to be sorted and sold.  We're about half done up there.

Boy, I sure can get tired of a project in a hurry.  I can come up with the best excuses if I'm not enthused, but I'm disciplining myself to keep going even if it's filling just one box a day.

As I lay in bed last night, my muscles ached and weariness was all over me.  It's hard work throwing away the past.  The more tired I am, the easier it is for me to fall in a blue funk.  How can I part with my dolly's baby buggy, and how do I say good-bye to Gramma's mantle clock.  When it came time for me to say good-bye to Gramma's treadle sewing machine, that's when I hit the wall.  Nope.  Can't do it.

When I get to feeling sad about my age, I can't come to grips with me being 65.  How and when did that happen?  Wasn't it yesterday when I was a little girl standing by Gramma watching her sew me a dress out of colored feed  sacks?  Life has gone fast, and who knows how much time is left.

Guess I'll just keep on filling one box at a time.  A lot of stuff I'll sell, but there are a few things marked "precious"  that will stay with me for the long haul.

May Day and Lei Day

Hubby will always remember the date his Dad died.  He was with his Mother when her door bell rang.  A little neighbor girl reached out and gave his Mother a May Basket she made for her.  Ahhh, the power of a child to lift heavy hearts.

The word 'may' is with us all year long.  How many times in a day does each of us use the word 'maybe.'  What  emotions must have filled the pilgrims as they walked down the Mayflower Steps in Plymouth England, hoping to find a place where they could practice any religion they wanted.  And, what about mayflies, mayhem, mayonnaise, mayors, maypole, and the mayday call for help.

May is said to have come from the Roman Fertility Goddess Maiesta, and Mother's Day is celebrated on the second Sunday in May.  I could never wrap my head around a Mother's Day.  Shouldn't we honor them every day?  The mother who receives a bouquet of dandelions from her little boy or girl has to feel a delight that can't come FTD.  Anyway, that's how I would feel if I was a mother.

History hails May for Charles Lindbergh making the first solo Trans-Atlantic airplane flight in May of 1927, and Amelia Earhart is credited for being the first woman to do the same in 1932.

On May 13, 1917, three young children in Fatima, Portugal, saw a vision of, and given a message from, the Blessed Mother.

And, if I could be anywhere today, I'd choose Hawaii.  They're celebrating Lei Day.  Read about the festivities at www.hawaiimagazine.com/blogs/hawaii_today/2012/4/30HawaiiOahuWaikiki_Big_Island_Hilo_lei_day.

Hawaiian Lei

P.S.  If my cousin, Leilani, is reading this.......Happy Lei Day, my dear!

Haiku Poem

Last day of April, and I've been remiss in acknowledging National Poetry Month.  

The Haiku Japanese poem (5-7-5 syllable) is probably my favorite to write.  I don't adhere to academia's rules of poetry, simply because I write for fun.  If it comes from my heart and my head, then it's mine and the way it's gonna be. In all honesty, I'm finding naughtiness to be more fun than niceness in more venues of life. Why dance the two-step when the one-step will do.  I'm either becoming that crotchety old lady or reverting back to my childhood bratty-ness.

My Poem  

Walking down the steps

The sound of coffee perking.

Favorite cup waits.

Thoughts of what to write

An idea flashes through.

Grab it quick I must.

Raindrops fall and drip

A clap of thunder strikes close.

Home and soul make love.

Doors are locked up tight

Life's miseries keeping out.

Rain, rain, rain all day.

One sentence written

A paragraph, then two more.

Fingers race and chase.

Type, delete, edit.

Emphasize and underscore.

Add a picture, too.

Blogging is my joy

Writer I wanted to be.

Thank you, World Wide Web.

My Dream

William Dement said, "Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives."

Last night's dream was a doozy and is still ablaze this morning.  My dream took me on a tour overseas, but I don't know where.....

• Why wouldn't my clothes fit in the suitcase?  I folded, re-folded, and then finally wrapped a belt around it so it wouldn't pop open and all my clothes fall out.  I was completely frazzled before getting myself to the airport. 
• Our tour group was going out for dinner one night, and I didn't bring my black dress pants.  Why didn't I bring them?    
• When our tour was over and time to head home, I struggled to fit my clothes back into three suitcases.  Piles of clothes stared at me from the hotel bed, and I couldn't figure out where they all came from.   
• One of my traveling companions spotted our blue plastic turkey baster in my suitcase...the kind you squeeze to suck up juices and then drizzle over the turkey.  I was so embarrassed I couldn't even look at her.  What on earth could have possessed me to bring that dumb thing along?
• My co-travelers packed their stuff with ease and left me alone in the hotel room to finish packing.  They didn't want to miss the plane back home.
• Two pieces of my underwear absolutely would not fit in the big suitcase, so I tied them together and onto the handle of my suitcase.
• The male pilot and female flight attendant came to the hotel room to tell me to hurry so I wouldn't miss the plane like I did when we were in France.
• Once they got me on the plane, I realized I left in such a rush that my best grey vest and eyeglasses were left on the hotel bed.  I could feel the plane starting to move.
• The co-pilot let me sit on his lap for the flight back home.

There you have it.  A glimpse into my silent insanity.  No way am I going to attempt to interpret it, cuz I don't want to know the implications.  I'll simply let the dream turn into stardust, and then I'll suck it up with my turkey baster!

Let's Thank One Another

"Think to Thank.

In these three words are the finest capsule course

 for a happy marriage,

formula for enduring friendship,

and a pattern for personal happiness."

~Thomas S. Monson

"If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life

 is 'thank you,'

 it will be enough."

~Meister Eckhardt

"If you haven't all the things you want,

 be grateful for the things you don't have that you wouldn't want."

~Author Unknown

"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out.

  It is then burst into flame by an encounter

 with another human being.

  We should all be thankful for those people 

who rekindle the inner spirit."

  ~Albert Schweitzer

"To live a life of gratitude is to open our eyes

 to the countless ways in which we are supported

 by the world around us.

  Such a life provides less space for our suffering, 

because our attention is more balanced. 

 We are more often occupied with noticing what we are given, 

thanking those who have helped us,

 and repaying the world in some concrete way for 

what we are receiving."

  ~Gregg Krech

"You say grace before meals.  All right. 

 But, I say grace before the concert and the opera,

 and grace before the play and pantomime,

 and grace before I open a book,

 and grace before sketching, painting, swimming,

 fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and

 grace before I dip the pen in the ink."

  ~G.K. Chesterton

"The unthankful heart...discovers no mercies; 

but let the thankful heart sweep through the day,

 and, as the magnet finds the iron, 

so it will find, in every hour,
 some heavenly blessings! 

 ~Henry Ward Beecher

"The world has enough beautiful mountains and meadows,

 spectacular skies and serene lakes. 

 It has enough lush forests, flowered fields and sandy beaches.

  It has plenty of stars and the promise of a new sunrise and sunset every day. 

 What the world needs more of is people

 to appreciate and enjoy it." 

 ~Michael Josephson

Thank you with all my heart for reading my blogs.  

Your heart and my heart shall forever be connected. 

 ~Nature Weaver

Junk Mail

• More than 100 BILLION pieces of junk mail fill our mailboxes every year.  
• This figures out to be 900 pieces per household.
• The junk mail enterprise unnecessarily destroys 100 million trees per year.
• Junk mail is one of the major contributors to climate change.
• Junk mail produces more than 51 million metric tons of greenhouses gases each year.....equal to more than 9 million passenger cars, firing 11 coal power plants, combining emissions of 11 states, mowing more than 20 billion lawns, driving nearly 5 million school buses, and heating nearly 13 million homes.

What's the solution?

Most of the unsolicited mail we receive has a return address on the envelope.  All we have to do is cross out our name and write "return to sender," and politely send it back. The company ends up paying the return postage, and we all know they aren't going to want to keep that up.

Consider this ridiculous scenario.......

1.  A company pays the U.S. Postal Service postage so it can send junk mail.
2.  An employee of that company is paid to deposit the junk in a post office receptacle.
3.  The U.S. Postal Service flies by plane or drives by truck the same junk mail to be delivered to its recipient.
4.  Another postal employee sorts through and places the junk mail in our mail box.
5.  We, in turn, find the unwanted mail cluttering our mail box.
and, here's the real real kicker.....
6.  The U.S. Postal Service provides the cardboard waste basket in which to dispose of it.

And, we're letting our forests be ripped out so this senseless cycle can continue?

We Gotta Laugh at Life

Marvin was in the hospital on his death bed. The family called Marvin's preacher to be with him in his final moments.  As the preacher stood by the bed, Marvin's condition seemed to deteriorate, and Marvin motioned for someone to quickly pass him a pen and paper.  The preacher quickly got a pen and paper and lovingly handed it to Marvin.  But, before he had a chance to read the note, Marvin died.

The preacher, feeling that now wasn't the right time to read it, put the note in his jacket pocket.  It was at the funeral while speaking that the preacher suddenly remembered the note.  Reaching deep into his pocket, the preacher said, "And, you know what, I just remembered that right before Marvin died, he handed me a note.  Knowing Marvin well, I'm sure it was something inspiring that we can all gain from."

With that introduction, the preacher ripped out the note and opened it.  The note said, "HEY, YOU ARE STANDING ON MY OXYGEN TUBE!"

Easy Microwave Rhubarb Sauce

Only two of the five rhubarb plants back of the house survived the years.  Our household is split when it comes to eating rhubarb...one likes things tart, the other likes things sweet.  This Simple Microwave Sauce is how we are able to satisfy the one of us and spare the other.

2 cups rhubarb stems, chopped into 1-inch pieces
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup white sugar, OR 1/2 cup packed brown sugar
Red food coloring (optional)
Dash of cinnamon (optional)

1.  Put the chopped rhubarb and salt together in a glass baking dish.  Cover and microwave for 2 minutes.  Take out and stir.

2.  Add the brown OR white sugar.  Stir.  Cover again.  Microwave for two more minutes and then take out.  Stir it once more.

3.  Cover the dish.  Microwave for 2 more minutes to finish your rhubarb sauce.  Add a dash of cinnamon and stir, if desired.  If you'd prefer this sauce to be red, just add a few drops of red food coloring and stir.

4.  Serve warm over ice cream, on toast, muffins, waffles, cakes, and even on pork chops.

Morel Mushrooms and Deer Ticks

Morel Mushrooms

Tis the season for hunting these delicious bits of fungus in places where the dead elms lay....and then boastfully returning to town with an "I've got a secret" attitude.

Not so with two young "shoomers" who shared their discovery with us day before yesterday.  Hubby and the fuzzy one were out in our yard when a pickup stopped at the sidewalk.  A young couple, who live down the street from us, asked if we like morels.  Knowing his wife would probably pee in her pants to get some, hubby said sure.  He came walking in the house holding his baseball cap plump full of these 'shooms.

My family hunted morels in our farm timber every spring, and the way we liked fixing them best was with scrambled eggs.  It was our house rule to clean and boil them before frying.  Daddy insisted we boil the grit out of their honeycomb tops before putting them on the table.

That reminds me of eating pheasants and squirrels when we were kids.  We were warned to watch out for BB's so we wouldn't bite into one and break off a tooth.  Eating food from the wild has its perils and precautions... another one is taking care not to get a fish bone stuck in one's throat.  We kept slices of bread on the table when we ate fish, just in case one of us did.  The bread, when swallowed, was the best way to dislodge a bone.

Hubby cooked his capful of morels to perfection, scrambling them in eggs just for me.  The capful shrunk down to a fraction in size, but I shut my eyes and made the most of their distinctive taste.  It's that business of less is more.

What a thoughtful gesture for a young couple to share their woodsy adventure with us, an older couple, who probably won't be tromping through the woods anymore looking for the morels.  The amount of deer ticks in the woods this year is probably the main reason we don't care to go.  In fact, hubby noticed a deer tick crawling on the guy's shirt collar.  My guess that is that if there was one tick on him, there were more frantically looking for a fleshy place to attach.

Deer Tick

It's that darned Lyme Disease that deer ticks spread.  The disease is named for a town in Connecticut named Lyme.  In 1975, an outbreak of juvenile arthritis cases was discovered to be caused by a tick-born infection.  Deer ticks are about the size of a sesame seed, and their back ends are a reddish color and their legs blackish.  They feed on the blood of white-tailed deer, and that's why they're called deer ticks.

Early symptoms of Lyme disease are so much like the flu, it's hard to recognize.  Usually the first clue is a slow-spreading bull's-eye-type rash where the tick attached.  If not treated with antibiotics, other health problems can develop....like facial paralysis, sore joints, really bad headaches, heart palpitations, and other neurological changes and disorders.  In other words, it's nasty.

We're very watchful that the fuzzy one doesn't pick up any kind of tick.  We pet owners must use tick prevention and tick-killing products to keep our little sweethearts healthy.  They are completely defenseless in these matters without our help.  It's that business of do unto others.

City Girl Goes Farming

Nancy, a city girl, married a farmer.  One morning, before the farmer went out to the field, he said, "Honey, today the artificial insemination man is coming over to impregnate one of the cows.  I put a nail in a two-by-four over the cow's stall.  Please show him which one it is."

When the guy arrived, Nancy led him down the row of stalls until she saw the nail.  She pointed to the stall, and he asked her, "Are you sure this is the one?"

"Yes, I'm sure.  It's the one with the nail," said Nancy.

"What's the nail for?" asked the man.

"I guess it's to hang your pants on," replied Nancy.