Hindsight is 2020

The phrase "Hindsight is 2020" was never more meaningful than it is today, the 31st of December. If I had known what 2020 held, I would have hugged my family and friends a little longer and tighter that last time we were together. Along with the tough times, this year held some highlights and certainly some insights for me.

It was because of the threatening pandemic that I decided to fulfill a life-long dream and released my first novel Angel Wings.  I thought, "If not now, when?" I am so touched and grateful for the positive responses from my readers.

Another highlight was the assurance that my husband and I still love each other, even after spending much quality and quantity time together. We enjoy working and playing together. We were blessed with an abundant garden this year and were able to share the produce with family and friends.

I was thrilled to turn 65 this year! Some of our friends and my three children all stopped by throughout the day for physically distant visits and brought me presents. It was a beautiful fall day, and I am grateful for every day I am alive. 

Here's to 2021! I don't know what it will look like, but I do know I am going to make the most of every moment going forward! Happy New Year!

Adventures in Luffa Growing

 

Last summer, Blaine and I grew a luffa (loofah) plant. My sister Janie gave me the little green plant. It was about six inches tall, but when we put the little roots into our fertile soil, it took off like a race horse out of the gate. Tendrils clung to the woven wire fence as the vine grew...and grew...and grew, spreading out both ways from the root a total distance of about 30 feet. Bright yellow flowers bloomed along the way. Then the petals dropped off and tiny gourds appeared, soon growing into big ones. This little plant was thirsty; we sometimes watered it twice a day.

My research advises the time to harvest the gourds is before the frost, after they turn yellow, but only a few were yellow by the time it frosted. I picked the rest of the green gourds and hung them on a drying rack. When the gourds were ready, I banged them on a flat surface to loosen the seeds. I then peeled off the thick skin in strips. The most fun part of the harvest was shaking the loose seeds out of the gourds. Each little seed seemed to be encased in a cellophane wrapper, which dried and dropped off.

Now I have a pile of sponges to be used in a variety of ways. They can be used as a dish sponge or as a shower sponge, but more research warns that natural sponges may harbor bacteria, just like other sponges, and should be cleaned or discarded regularly. 

We saved several seeds and will probably plant some again next year, just because we enjoyed watching them grow.

Goodbye Summer

Feathery fronds of florescent-yellow flowers wave goodbye to summer,

 From road banks and fields. 

As a young girl, walking the hills of our farm with my father,

I asked him what those beautiful flowers were called.

"Goldenrod," he answered.

Every fall since then, goldenrods remind me of my father,

And those bittersweet last days of summer.

I'm in My Cups

To be in one's cups actually is a phrase that means to be inebriated. Lately, I have been in my cups. Now that I have your attention, I mean I am enjoying my mugs of coffee and an assortment of warm herbal teas. More than the liquid inside the cups, I appreciate the cups themselves. Below are some of my favorite cups and why I love them.

The reason I like this gift from my daughter is obvious:
three sweet grandkids who are now almost grown up!

I bought this mug when my sister Janie and I went to Cape Cod.
We climbed up to the top of a lighthouse. Good times! 

My dear friend Ellen gave me this cup for my birthday. It says, "Hello, Gorgeous"
on the outside and assures me I look lovely as I take a sip. Compliments are always welcome, especially first thing in the morning when I haven't even brushed my hair yet.

My Pioneer Woman mug: The poppy painted on it reminds me of my mother's flower bed,
and it fits in my hand so nicely.

This cup, a gift from my son and his wife, makes me smile. Mr. Rogers shares some of his favorite sayings, such as, "Infinity just is, and that's the way I think love is, too." Another is "The child is in me still, and sometimes not so still." Appropriately today and every day, he says, "When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, and less scary."

When I pour hot liquids into the mug, Mr. Rogers magically changes out of his suit coat into his sweater. It makes me smile every time. I texted my daughter-in-law recently to thank her again for the mug. She replied, "You and Mr. Rogers have a lot in common." That made me smile even more!

There you have it, my post about being in my cups. I am finding joy in the simple treasures within my home. Do you have a favorite cup or mug? I would love to see a picture of it in the comments below.

Revisiting Country Woman Magazine

-->

   Thirty years ago, I wrote a poem to my husband for Valentine’s Day. It was a thoughtful but cheap gift. At the time, we had bought a farm, were raising three children, and did not have much extra cash for presents. I submitted the poem to Country Woman magazine. Imagine my excitement when I received an acceptance letter and a check for the poem. Even more thrilling was when I received a copy of the magazine in the mail with my beautifully illustrated poem.

   Recently, the magazine celebrated its 50^th anniversary and asked readers to share their favorite feature over the years. I wrote the letter below and was pleased they chose to publish it in the February/March issue. (Update: When I wrote the letter I didn't know yet that by the time the magazine actually arrived, we would be blessed with great-grandchild #5.) 

   While I didn't receive a check this time, I did get a free copy of the magazine and a nice letter saying they looked forward to seeing more of my work. Maybe I won't wait 30 years to send in another submission.

1990 Magazine Featuring My Poem

2020 Anniversary Issue Containing My Letter

Snow Falling Softly on the Pines

Today I notice the snow falling softly as I look out of my living room windows this morning. First come tiny flakes I can barely see, but then they gather strength and increase in size. The white flakes show off best against the tall green pine tree in my front yard. We planted that tree on my daughter Valerie’s 16^th birthday. It is huge now. (No offense, Val. It hasn't been that many years ago, right? Pines grow quickly.) I am no good at calculating yardage, or I could tell you how tall it actually is.

I look at the neighbor’s snow-covered fields and our own pastures and pretend to be at a ski resort. I open the doors of my black Grizzly wood stove to see the orange and yellow flames inside and pretend I am lounging in front of a fancy fireplace.

*Slurp* I drink a mocha cappuccino in front of the fire. I’m happy to be cozy at home. I don’t have to pretend about that at all.