Chapel of Hope Stories

Dear Reader:

I was, admittedly, at one time the clutter queen. Everything around me was full of something…and most of those somethings were useless…just taking up space. I must have driven mother nuts…since she was just the opposite…she was a  minimalist long before the term came into vogue.

Like her, later however, I realized that raising three children alone takes every ounce of your strength… just to keep the daily routine of jobs and schools on track. I neither had the energy or desire to spend weekends playing “pick up sticks” clothes, toys, coats, jackets, and sports equipment.

Yelling at  my  children to do so wasn’t working either…I put up with enough conflict at school…to have any patience left at home.

It was only after Tommy went off to college that I slowly started reclaiming the house…and quite honestly it was only after my ‘little c’ diagnosis that suddenly cluster started suffocating me. I finally realized it also stunted my creativity….too many useless things hovering around me…smothering me in every facet of my life.

Another positive shout-out for the pandemic…I am saving lots of money not shopping….I haven’t bought an outfit…blouse or pants…in the last four months…a record for me. Before the pandemic…I would meet friends for lunch and then we would usually go to department stores, garden, or gift shops…and I never left without clothing, plants or decor.

Amazon. com is probably my biggest bill of the month…but it is basically just an accumulation of books and gifts for the grandchildren. When one isn’t going anywhere except around family…one doesn’t feel a need for any new clothing every month or so.

Thus…my closets are now pretty bare…having sent boxes of clothes/clutter to charity organizations all over town.

It’s true…if you haven’t worn  an article of clothing in a year…

SAYONARA!

And speaking of the Japanese…In their culture….their eyes are trained at an early age to see empty spaces in art, religion, design, business and life, not as  empty spaces… but as “spaces full of nothing.“

Empty spaces are filled with possibility…shrouded by the unknown until the time is right to be revealed. Every time I change my mantel- for holidays or just a ‘new look’ …there is a gap or interval of time when the mantel is completely empty…

Each time I go through this transition…I admire more fervently the beauty of the empty mantel and all the possibilities my imagination conjures up…I enjoy the fullness of nothing. There is an uncluttered elegance to a bare mantel…a refreshing restraint in the room that seems, somehow inviting.

*(Mother…it took awhile…but your minimalist  genes are sprouting.)

So until tomorrow…What I have finally realized is when I go through my “purging” moods…that I have outgrown so many objects I once adored…because they halt my ability to see things in a new light.   Try this readers… remove a picture from a wall, clear off table tops, or remove a piece of furniture from a room. Suddenly…the room has grown larger…***Actually you have just made space for yourself to continue growing.

We have gotten a few hit and miss showers over the weekend…but more missed than hit and the ‘hits” are weak…lasting only precious minutes…still my prayer tree is answering my prayer for rain…a little at a time….caught this photo right after one spotty shower.

Another plant has a bloom on it and with Doodle’s help have identified it…..a little, tiny hydrangea bush…believe me the little bloom (enlarged for the photo) takes up most of the plant that is only about a foot or less across. I think this is an example of a bush being planted in the wrong location…not happy or growing. But still pretty! 🙂

Dear Reader:

Don’t we (or at least) we know of… people who spend so much of their lives…talking about how ‘one day they are going to do this or that’ or “change their life…if  they ever can find the time.’

Behind each similar familiar statement… that is some times simply shrugged off as a trivial thought or ‘another life’ dream….one recognizes a profound sense of loneliness and sadness. People seem to realize that their life is quickly passing them by…but they have yet to find the courage to change.

Enter Covid 19! To date is has more profoundly changed people’s lives than any other historical incident in quite some time. Yet with it…has, also, come unique opportunities of taking “the road less traveled” and finding that passion within all of us that has waited patiently …for the opportunity to present itself.

My two passions, that began post-retirement, starting the blog in 2010 and a garden in 2013, came about under different circumstances. The blog came together so quickly after discovering what  a “blog”was… that I never had time to second-guess my decision to start it… because it was started and now it was up to me to continue it….and to my own surprise I loved it and continue to do so….sharing my simple life with so many other exciting readers’s lives.

The garden idea took longer. In the days before all the teaching retirement paperwork was ‘signed, sealed, and delivered‘  friends were asking me what I would do. I didn’t know but I also knew for my health  (mental and physical) it was time for a change, to let go of ‘dead-lines.’ I remember in my own personal visualization of retirement,  I was planting a garden. The thought surprised even me. I knew absolutely nothing about how to even begin to create a garden..

It took me a few years, however, to finally completely release the rope I had been tethered to for years-the comfortable known area of my life-education…I became an adjunct professor at the College of Charleston and Charleston Southern, I continued to do workshops with my Berkeley friend, Carol Poole, since we always had so much fun on our ‘adventures’ together in bringing storytelling into the social studies curriculum.

And then came “little c” diagnosis in 2008..It turned my life completely around. I was no longer lost with what I would do with the rest of my life…instead I was enveloped with the feeling that I had so much I wanted to do…and I couldn’t let breast cancer deny me my recently realized dreams of a new life.

I never looked back from that point on…what I had been searching for was an appetite for life again...zest and exuberance! With my life in the balance suddenly it became so precious…Joi devivre...as the French would say…”the love of life.” I wanted it…before it was too late.

After reading an article by writer, Brenda Ueland, I realized I had to re-awaken my imagination. It needed “moodling-long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling, and puttering… to flourish. The secret is to find your life aspiration…the things that fulfills your “being” and turn it all into play. That way you will never work again.

Life changed for me with a “harmonious lilt” that brings so much daily happiness. I was ‘lost but now I am found.” Thanks “little c.”

So until tomorrow….

Have a beautiful day today!

***A BIG SHOUT-OUT and HAPPY BIRTHDAY to  my Big Bro Ben! We grew close after losing our youngest brother, David at 21, to Marfan’s Syndrome… leaving just the two of us.

We have each had our health scares but that is what makes every birthday now even more special. Love you Ben…Happy Happy Birthday!

And a second SHOUT-OUT to my beautiful niece, Vikki, Lee’s wife and Rhode’s mom. They have “escaped quarantine” for a birthday trip to Florida to see Vikki’s family. Have fun everyone and Happy Happy Birthday Vikki!

Have a safe trip to Florida and enjoy the precious time away with family….

Dear Reader:

I have heard the expression “Gilding the lily” but was never quite sure what it meant.

I decided to research the expression and discovered that the eytymology of the phrase… has been altered from its first original line in one of Shakespeare’s plays.

To adorn unnecessarily something already beautiful. The expression is a condensation of Shakespeare’s metaphor in King John: “To gild refined gold, to paint the lily… is wasteful and ridiculous excess.” i.e., you wouldn’t need to add gold to a beautiful lily.

In the 19th century…the expression used was to “paint the lily” meaning a beautiful lily doesn’t needed a layer of gold on it or gold paint…it is already perfection…no elaborations needed.

Haven’t we all squirmed under too many gushy compliments at some time or another…even elaborated  thank you’s.…when all that was necessary was just one “Thank you.”

Normally I feel that way too…if things get too mushy-gushy…where they start to cross the line… (appearing insincere rather than appreciated from the heart) we grow uncomfortable…too much “too much”..

Yesterday was my first physical in almost two years…I keep forgetting that I started the “quarantine” craze before it even became popular  two years ago?

(*I got to have a practice run on being quarantined when my foot surgery went astray…infection set in…I actually experienced more pain in that foot than I have from the accumulation of  twelve years of different cancer treatments. ) 🙂

Then while I was using the wound-vac and other medieval instruments of pain…my car was stolen…twice ….from the same teenager….so even when I was given the okay to drive again…I had no vehicle to drive.

It all worked out eventually…like it always does…but I did miss a lot of medical visits that had to be postponed, outside of my oncologist, for a few months.

I was a little concerned what the blood work numbers might show ..I have had acid reflux, (which I have never had since my last pregnancy- I think we can rule out I am pregnant, however! ) 🙂

On-going indigestion problems (added to the list) which are typical of Verzenio’s side effects…but mostly my concern lays with my complete lethargic self! No matter how much sleep at night or rest during the day I get…I just felt tired all the time and listless. That is not me…I can give “perky” a run for the money. What was causing it…my case of the “May-lay-Waste-A-ways?”

The farther Dr. Montoya got through going over the blood work outcome numbers with me…the most excited she became…not only were the numbers good…as Tony the Tiger would say…“They were GREAT!” I don’t know who was more excited and/or relieved…her or me! 🙂

Since returning home yesterday afternoon I have pondered this happy news while still shaking my head in disbelief. I think I must have just come down with a double-whammy of monotonous   “hot weather blues”  with a dash of  “quarantine” quandary.”  *The combination is not good! Avoid it if you can!

We were both giggling like school girls at the end of the reading… then suddenly Dr. Montoya gave me an A+ and then decided to “gild the lily” with another + AND a happy face…signed by her.

I can hardly wait to take it to my oncologist, Dr. Jeter, Monday morning…since I have to have blood work done again and an office visit…to show her my primary doctor’s reaction!

gild the lily. to adorn unnecessarily something already beautiful. to praise someone inordinately.

I must say I am still reeling with delight at the “inordinate amount of praise and congratulations” I got! In a situation like this…any doctor can “gild my lily” as often as they wish!!!!!! It made my day! Thank you and your staff, Dr. Montoya, for just being you!

So until tomorrow….

“Kindness begins with the understanding that we all struggle.” – Charles Glassman

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

Look What Came Yesterday? Perfect timing…My Prayer Tree Plaque! As I was digging the hole for the stake to go in….I thanked the tree for the good news yesterday! Now I need to find some heavy duty index cards that would fit in plastic covers to hang on the branches…in case we ever get any rain! )

***The Prayer Tree completed my first prayer….a prayer for rain…A little after 10 last night the rains fell…today I will finally have  a “Get Out of Jail” free pass…no watering today! 🙂

I can’t say good-bye without a beauty of two to share with you.

Dear Reader:

Only, we humans, have the ambiguous “luxury” of worrying. Animals know, instinctively, that there is no security in life and thus live it moment to moment… with little thought to the future. (unless “squirreling away nuts!) 🙂

Whereas humans spend enormous chunks of their time alive…worrying about everything under the sun.

In one article I read on worrying…the psychologist asked his client to answer a memory “test” question on worry and productivity.

“What was your biggest worry exactly one year ago today?”

Instead of a response most clients just shook their heads and some even offered a half-grin at the personal eye-opening truth behind the question. Who remembered or even cared now?

Like Winston Churchill once said in a famous anecdote –

“When I look back on all these worries, I remember the story of the old man who said on his deathbed that he had had a lot of troubles in his life, most of which  never happened.”

If anybody had our human permission to be allowed to worry…it should have been Jesus. Think about it…

“He came into an unstable and unpredictable world. He lived in an agricultural society where one summer’s drought could wipe out crops for the winter. He hung out with fishermen, who might fish all night long and catch nothing to sell or bring home to family. And Jesus knew the human heart and the temptations presented by the cares of this life. So he gave his disciples some excellent instruction on worry in Matthew 6.

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? (25)

He follows up this advice with the next reassurance to mankind…

Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? (26)

And finally Jesus ‘hits’ his disciples with the crux of the problem of worrying through life and its futility concerning our short life spans on earth …..

And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? (27)

(Source: “Three Things Jesus tells Us About Worry” by Mark Altrogge)

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Like me…I am sure a lot of you readers are thinking “Sure that all sounds good, Becky, but it’s not realistic…humans can’t help but worry.” Yet does anyone believe God purposefully inserted “worry” into our psyches …after all it is the antithesis of faith.

Let me tell you a true story about witnessing a young man who lived his philosophy in life…however short that was. He was the new music teacher at Oakbrook Elementary when my daughter, Mandy, was still teaching in Summerville.

He was right out of college, just married, and brimming with life….he just wasn’t a music teacher…but he was a breathing musical human “instrument” from God... who was always upbeat and happy.

I adored seeing him whenever I stopped by Mandy’s room to drop something off or tell a story to a class. After only a couple of years or so of teaching he was up for Dorchester Two’s Teacher of the Year. He was just that charismatic…you were drawn to him like a magnet and just wanted some of his enthusiasm and love of life to rub off on you.

I just so happened to be on the Teacher of the Year selection committee that year when he was representing Oakbrook Elementary. He entered the room with a huge smile on his face and shook each one’s hand vigorously.

He answered the questions directly…and we soon understood how he had beaten out so many experienced and talented teachers for this highly selective honor.

Near the end of the questions…one interviewer asked what she had asked the other candidates….How would he (in as few words as possible) sum up his philosophy on education?

No one expected his response….He suddenly jumped up on his chair and said since he was a music teacher it was only appropriate to answer that question with a song instead of a verbal response.

He started singing (pretending he had an ukulele) “Don’t Worry…Be Happy.”  

What I knew from my daughter (but he never mentioned) was that he suffered from a genetic heart problem all his young life…but he had never let it deter him from becoming a music teacher to children.

It was only about a year later that Mandy called me crying…he had gone to sleep one night and never awakened…leaving his recently wedded young wife, along with everyone who ever met him, in mourning over the loss of so much joy he gave the world.

He probably shortened his life by pursuing his teaching career but he could either lay around and watch life from a distance, perhaps extending it a little longer, or jump in headfirst and live life to the fullest for whatever time he had. He made his choice and lived life from moment to moment.

So until tomorrow….Life can be lived in joy and faith…not worrying about tomorrow…but making the most of today.

“Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, it only saps today of its joy.”
– Leo F. Buscaglia

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

***As I was writing this post early yesterday morning…my friend, a little rabbit who comes to visit me periodically (especially after sprinkling extra bird feed on the ground around the feeder) showed up. At first I didn’t see him since he blended right into the brown leaves under the feeder.

But then he seemed to look through my window by the computer and “smile” at me….he just sat there and stared before hopping off. I managed to get one photo of him but the screen outside the glass window always causes a barrier to a great photo shot from that angle.

Admittedly…there I was worrying about my little furry friend…wanting him to finish breakfast and scurry back into the woods again where it was safer…whereas the little rabbit was as happy as could be exploring new areas and new adventures. I am envious of the little rabbit…lesson learned.

I was out early in my garden yesterday morning…the automatic sprinkler had come on leaving the bushes and flowers with beautiful droplets on them…here are some pretty moments frozen in beauty.

Dear Reader:

I am presently reading a delightful novel by Susan Wiggs, one of my favorite summer go-to-authors. Her latest book, The Lost and Found Bookshop is perhaps my favorite.

The story is about starting over…and the enduring question in-point is:

“If you had to start over, what would you do and who would you be?” 

The main character, Natalie Harper, finds herself in just this predicament…due to an unexpected tragedy. She returns home to San Francisco (having given up a high-powered secure career)…to try to save a financially-stressed book shop her family has owned for decades.

In addition she becomes the caretaker to her beloved grandfather, Andrew Harper, who is fighting  loss of memory as dementia keeps attacking his thoughts from past and present daily.

Trying to stave off the shop, literally, from falling in on them…Natalie hires a “jack of all trades” workman to start patching up some of the most necessary problems… to stay safely open. As a divorced father, “Peach” Gallagher,  brings his six-year old (adorable) daughter, Dorothy, with him on numerous occasions.

Little Dorothy is the one person who can best communicate with Andrew Harper…each one’s day brighter for the other being in it.

Today I just wanted to share one conversation between them…that gives readers a glimpse into a special bond that defies time.

Grandpa Andrew is fussing about how some young people are impertinent and therefore a whippersnapper.”

“What’s impertinent mean?” asks little Dorothy

“The sort of child who makes fun of me because I’m old and have a forgetful brain. But I am happy to say that although you are young, you’re not impertinent. Therefore you’re not a whippersnapper.

Dorothy grew quiet studying Grandpa Andrew. “How old are you?”

“Seventy-nine.”

“Did you have fun getting that old?”

Grandpa laughed and said it was the best, most delightful question he had ever received. He grew thoughtful and  replied

“I did have a great deal of fun. I love San Francisco and I used to play all around the parks with my classmates. We would have grass wars near the lagoon and if anyone fell in…they came out covered in slime!”

…“We also flew kites…just like you did, Dorothy, on my birthday last week. “

“I like flying kites” replied Dorothy.

Again Grandpa grew thoughtful and advised…

“Have as much fun as you can, as often as you can. There were other times that I’ve endured unpleasantness and outright tragedy. There have been days when it was all I could do to take the next breath of air.”

“Breathing is always a good idea, ” Dorothy  stated simply.

“Indeed it is. When tragedy strikes, I must remember to breathe until I get to the fun part of life again.”

“And if you forget, I’ll remind you,” Dorothy said.

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Let’s all take a moment today to remember the ‘fun parts’ of growing old or just older. All of us, if we live long enough, will have our share of tragedies along the way and like Grandpa Andrew observed…“We must all remember to breathe until we can get back to the fun part of life again.”

So until tomorrow…

These words were never more important than they are now…breathe in, breathe out...we will get through this crisis together and be better and stronger for it. In the meantime…make time…for homespun, free fun!

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

The morning glories and lantana are handling this hot drought we are having better than other flowers…Somehow those afternoon ocean breeze showers just aren’t making dark, thunder clouds like typically this time of year…so we are left with just hot and hotter conditions…and no rain. (Several back-to-back days of this….but we still have hope.)

(Thoreau’s Cabin in the Woods…On Walden Pond-Artist-Don Barne)

Dear Reader:

My senior year in high school…I either took an extra elective course or perhaps signed up for  some kind of club…but it was an extra literary look at the great American authors/philosophers. Mother twisted my arm on that decision telling me that it would look good on my college application and resume.

The senior high school teacher, in charge of this seminar, had been there for decades…”Miss Ruth” and if you ever wondered why she never married you only had to start the unit on Henry David Thoreau to discover the answer. She was hopelessly in love with Thoreau. (Unfortunately…the timing was off! ) 🙂

Every time she read a passage from “On Walden Pond” her eyes would become distant and dreamy-looking. No doubt…in her mind she was walking around the pond with her great “love” Thoreau.

I had forgotten we made a scrapbook with pictures, cut-out quotes of the great American literary giants…and  I certainly didn’t realize I still had that old notebook until I was going through some plastic bags where too many of my old family and children’s photos are kept, along with report cards, notes, and letters. Famous words…“One day I will get these organized.” 🙂

One segment of the scrapbook dealt with JOY and I had cut out the lyrics to the “Joyful hymn” –  “Joyful Joyful We adore  Thee....” followed with family photos, Erskine College where I had just been accepted, my church,  my little dog, Christie, and photos of high school friends. (Things and people, pets who made me joyful.)

At the top of the page…I had written down this famous Thoreau quote:

“I am grateful for what I am and have. It is surprising how contented one can be with nothing definite-only a sense of existence…O how I laugh when I think of my vague indefinite riches. No run on my bank can drain it- for my wealth is not possession but enjoyment.”

I intuitively understood that my discovery of this notebook (and this particular quote) had to be a God Wink...especially these days. It is so fitting for the times in which we live.

So many hard-working Americans, recently, have lost jobs or will before this health crisis is over. They probably wish, like “Miss Ruth” did… that Thoreau would invite them for a stroll around Walden Pond too.  That he would “enrich” them with the wisdom of the ages…regardless of economic wealth or lack of…reminding everyone that only we can give our greatest wealth away, the daily joy of life, by giving in to modern society’s misplaced economic priorities.

Think about our children….what do we want them to remember from this time of uncertainty…that they were”stuck” at home, wore masks when out, couldn’t play with friends, were disappointed and  dismayed at how schools looked and felt so  differently without the benefits of human tactile hugs of encouragement and compassion…no groups or “hands-on” learning…not sitting together on the “story rug” to listen to the teacher read her favorite children’s book.

Instead…if our children can look back fondly on this period when they had more time with their mother and father, when extended families grew closer, when creative adventures of crabbing at the creek became a favorite past time…or experiencing drive-in movies for the first time.

…Or realizing they understood the basics of cooking now, they felt  more a part of the family while eating together, or taking walks each evening together, reading more together, dividing up responsibilities among each family member…and finally …pulling together to create their own daily adventures…

If a decade from now our children look back on this time fondly ( even as one of their favorite times) then you will know parents… that you got an A+ on parenting. You got it right. You looked until you found joy in every day and then passed it around.

The longer I live, the more I realize that the way we spend our day is the way we spend our life.

***Libby’s daughter, Betsy, shared this beautiful message.. I loved it…so would have Thoreau!

So until tomorrow:

Powerful, isn’t it? Parents…remind yourself of this “lesson” each time you get down…children are so resilient…they will bounce back…just make sure they have strong, loving memories to carry with them. In other words…just love’em and let the chips fall where they may.

As Mother Teresa once said:

“I’m happy in the moment and that’s enough. Each moment is all we need, no more.”

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

My love of reading grew out of my uncertain childhood following my father’s death and my mother’s hand amputation… due to bone cancer. I just remember always hearing adults talk softly around my brothers and me if mother’s name came up in the conversation…shaking their heads sadly…and then putting on big smiley faces for all of us.

I knew deep down something wasn’t right and I was terrified…daddy had gone to a hospital (Duke) and never returned and now mother was in a hospital…would she ever come back or go to where daddy was?

My first grade teacher didn’t have to prompt me to learn to read…I devoured every children’s book, library book, or magazine I could get my hands on. Even back then…I knew enough about the world to know that books didn’t lie to you and tell you everything would be okay and then it wasn’t..a book would not betray you or change its mind or make you feel dumb. You could be anybody you liked inside a story…with just a little imagination. I felt more at home here than in reality.

Looking back on those childhood memories…my admiration for grandmother only increases…she had just lost her husband, her son-in-law and her youngest child, mother, was facing a serious cancer surgery resulting in amputation at a time in the fifties when the percents of recovery from cancer weren’t good . Of course there was a lot of discussion going on….grown-ups’  whispering about the“What if’s.”

Grandmother Wilson had this one book that looked as “old as Methuselah.” The title was The Once and Future King.“It was torn and tattered and certain passages had been underlined by grandmother who used the book when she teaching school. One line that had stars by it -was apparently her favorite passage.

“The best thing for being sad,” replied Merlyn, beginning to puff and blow, is to learn something new. That is the only thing that never fails.”

I soon found out why she had it marked and on her bed side table…she was going to help me learn something new…to get my mind off of mother and what she was going through.

I was six by then…and the “new” …. was a bicycle that was very old and kept losing its chain. It had belonged to one of my cousins who loaned it to her. It was  too big for me…but that didn’t deter her.

I still remember that grandmother would finish her morning chores…go to the barn, get the bike and call me over for another lesson.

If anyone is not familiar with our state’s terrain…then you might not understand that red clay is the soil found in the Piedmont…the kind that takes double scrubbing to get off clothes and bodies.

I had so many band aids on my knees and ankles and elbows…it was almost hilarious…well funny to everyone else but me. My uncle would come in, take one look, and smile…“Still haven’t quite got that bike down yet, huh Becky?”

Grandmother would shoot him a warning look and respond” “Oh we are close, really close to riding a bike…aren’t we Becky? I would simply nod…and wonder if there were enough band aids left in the world .

The funniest part of the lesson would be when poor Grandmother would get on the bike to show me how to do it…there was a dirt , red clay road that lead from her house to my Uncle Herschel’s store. One day she was slowly riding the bike a few yards ahead of me to try to demonstrate the technique when the front wheel hit a stone in the road and sent the bike spinning out of control.

Grandmother had just uttered the words, “Now see how easy it is Becky…you try it again.” 

The bike went one way and grandmother the other…she had red clay in her hair, on her face, arms, and legs…sputtering clay and dirt from her mouth. Frantically she was yelling at me to find her glasses…nothing was worse than losing or breaking one’s eye glasses back then. They were dirty…but not broken.

Grandmother tripped trying to get the bike off her…I tried to grab her hand and we all went down in a heap…it was then when that wonderful woman started laughing…the harder she laughed…the funnier the situation became.

It was later that afternoon that I rode a bike, by myself, for the first time.

The passage in the book was and is right…if one is sad…you must learn something new to take your mind off of it….that night I got two bowls of peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream. Unforgettable!

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So until tomorrow…“Are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?” (Mary Oliver)

Mandy sent me pictures from the Holy City Drive-in on Patriot’s Point…I am thinking to myself I would enjoy it without a movie…just looking at the beauty of the sun setting off the  U.S.S.Yorktown. 

Dear Reader:

Recently…I was skimming through a short biographical “info” page (on an author) located at the back of the book. It was telling about the author’s hobbies and interests. Then, suddenly, it ended with this observation: “She divides her time between sleeping and waking.”

This caught my attention…I googled to see if this was a quote, per se…but nothing popped up. However…several articles on segmented sleep did…which correlates to the editor’s observation of the author’s writing habits.

Apparently for thousands of year…before modern. artificial lighting…electricity… came into our lives…our ancestors practiced what today we called “segmented sleep.”

Segmented sleep is a sleep pattern in which your night sleep is divided into two separate chunks, with a period of wakefulness in between. Before we could control the amount of light at night, it was  a normal sleep pattern  for most people.

Virginia Tech historian Roger Ekirch, who spent 16 years researching segmented sleep, found considerable evidence showing that earlier generations (pre-Industrial Revolution) had a first sleep just after dusk, followed by an hour or two of being awake, time often spent in a relaxed state of prayer or meditation…while others wrote, painted, or created new ideas.  Then it was back to bed for a second sleep that lasted until morning.

My own “light” came on after reading the explanation…Some weeks I do the same thing. I don’t know if it is the daily chemo medications I am on and its side effects…but for a week or so I can go to sleep and sleep through the night…no problem.

Then, suddenly, for no apparent reason, I start waking up after four hours or so of sleep…wide awake, rested, and ready to go. (In fact I often write my posts during this “being awake” interval of time…then I fall back to sleep until 9 or so.

Apparently this author does the same thing…she sleeps, works on her latest novel, and then goes back to sleep.

*So now I understood her quote about dividing her time between sleeping and waking…she decides how best to use her mid-wake night time…to write, create, or perhaps just research  ideas or proof-read what she has already written.

Anybody else experienced “segmented sleep” patterns… left over from our ancestral/cultural habits? Maybe its still in our gene pool and just emerges during certain periods of our lives?

Now here’s another thought…Don’t you think that every day we live is our birthday? If we really believe in living each day to the fullest…then every day from the original day we entered this world should be a re-celebration of the life we were given… once upon a time.

We are reminded to always live each day as if it is our last…live every second, minute, and hour of it…but even more importantly live each “moment” of it. A thousand lifetimes can be lived in a moment.

Anne surprised me with one of those moments over the weekend. She had hinted that my post on “snail mail” was going to hit home soon…especially the part of the post where I confessed that I still pause… right before I open the mailbox door… wondering if there is a surprise inside. A God Wink.

Actually the surprise was too big to fit in the mailbox so my sweet  mail carrier brought it to me…When I opened it…I just shook my head and laughed. Last week I sent Anne a video of our Maine adventure…not knowing that she had ordered a professional (Shutterfly) photo album of the Maine trip.

What a beautiful keepsake…With the coronavirus not “behaving” in South Carolina…rising in the wrong direction…there is such confusion and mis-information circulating consistently keeping everyone upset… making the urge to escape or take a break from it even more compelling…

I reckon Anne and I were both looking back on this short but compelling Maine adventure…shaking our heads and wondering how it could have been such a short time ago…yet feeling like years ago simultaneously.

Anne said she had ordered it and was going to give it to me on my birthday…and then thought…”No”…if Covid has taught us nothing else…it has taught us to not put off until tomorrow what brings happiness today.

We decided, from now on, we would surprise each other with a Happy Birthday gift…on a just “any day” birthday. No numbers allowed but one selection required of a favorite episode in one’s life from the precious year ..in other words…a story told about a special benchmark event from the year… instead of a number shrieked! 🙂

After all we are all celebrating life with each breath…Happy Birthday everyone! Enjoy it!

Here are a few memories of this gorgeous fall trip in Maine…from the album…

You might remember…our trip was named “Spruce and Moose”

(We found a lot of spruce…but not so much “moose”…except for the stuffed ones, sculptures,or chocolate candy ones…yum!) 🙂

Today the trip, with all our at-home restrictions, seems more like a dream than a fairly recent reality…

While editing the photo below…it went abstract…I love it…When I wake up next time between two rounds of sleep…this is how I will visualize Maine in the fall…a wondrous assault of colors!

So until tomorrow…“Make new friends, but keep the old…one is silver and the other’s gold.”

A Very Happy Birthday to all of you today and every day…now go live it! Celebrate life!

Dear Reader:

This is the first year I didn’t have two big barrels of morning glories…already climbing fence trellis… that I would buy each spring at Ace Hardware. (But then no one expected COVID either…and not being able to go to ACE for my annual spring supplies.)

Still…the morning glories were not about to be “undone” …they returned…not on the fence trellis as I had hoped but in a pile of a mixture of bushes and weeds… they made their home…and are just beautiful!

I love to go to Dave’s Garden on the internet…he shares common sense gardening tactics and  he is  always ready with a story to accompany a plant or flower.

*Here is a tidbit memory from his boyhood …experiencing morning glories in all their beauty.

…”I grew up watching for the blooms of the corn that was growing in the garden plot down by the creek. From my perch in the swing on the front porch of my home high on the hillside, I looked for the pink, purple and blue flowers in the garden below. It happened every year. I ran to the kitchen where Granny Ninna was rolling out dough for biscuits, “The corn is blooming! The corn is blooming!”

“It isn’t time for the corn to bloom, honey. We’ve got to wait a few more weeks yet,” she said.

Those were the blooms of the morning glories, she told me, and they grew on the corn to keep the good bugs around and the bad bugs away. I much preferred thinking it was the corn that was blooming, but I liked the sound of the words: Morning Glories. What a pretty name for such a lovely bloom, much prettier than calling them corn blossoms.

“It wasn’t until I was older and wanted every plant I had known from my childhood planted in my own yard, that I started collecting morning glory seeds.

Mom said: “Don’t plant them near your day lilies, they’ll choke the bud right off.” Ninna said, “Don’t plant them near the Rose of Sharon, they’ll grow up that bush and it won’t never bloom.” And Aunt Bett said, “You grow them morning glories, chile, they’re good plants, and right pretty, too.” So now I grow morning glories, and you know who I listened to.

It is the way I feel too…it is just something about that indigo color that melts my heart…it is SO pretty to me. And because they only bloom for part of the day…that time becomes even more special.

On his website…Dave shared a legend he remembered hearing as a boy about how morning glories came to be.

I was told a story long ago, about a lovely Princess who lived in a far away land. She loved to sit in her garden of flowers, but she could only enjoy them in the cool of the morning, because she was a frail Princess and could not survive the heat of the sun. She never saw the beauty of the flowers that bloomed in the hot afternoons.

The delicate Princess was very sad, and as she returned to the palace knowing she would never see the afternoon blossoms, she began to cry. Her tears fell at her feet, and as they touched the ground, they turned into small seeds all along her path.

Once again the next day, the lovely Princess visited her gardens in the early morning, but oh how different her gardens were. Before her, twining all around the trees and climbing over the garden wall were beautiful flowers the likes of which she had never seen.

They were in gorgeous shades of blues, pinks, and purples. They grew above her head and touched her hair as she walked below. Her heart was full of joy and ever since that day, the lovely flowers were called Morning Glories, because they sprang from the tears of the beautiful Princess.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

So until tomorrow…Like stories…there are two sides to every tale…man, too, has two sides…good and bad. It is up to us to choose what is our right path to follow.

Character is like a tree and reputation its shadow. The shadow is what we think it is and the tree is the real thing.”
― Abraham Lincoln

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

In the corner pile of plants and weeds…my honeysuckle is finding its niche…I caught just a slight whiff while taking pictures of the morning glories…but it sure brought back memories. The “Grumpy Gardener” in Southern Living...says he has a love/hate relationship with honeysuckle…starting with childhood.

“This rampant vine has probably engendered more fond childhood memories than any other plant. Remember when the sudden surprise of honeysuckle fragrance told you that spring was here? Remember pinching off the end of the flower, pulling the thread-like pistil through, and being rewarded with a drop of sweet nectar? No kid ever said anything bad about honeysuckle.”

But kids grow up and relatives (similar to Dave’s) warn about the invasive species…whether one is talking about morning glories or honeysuckle.

As for me…bring it on…this corner by the fence is just my surprise corner of weeds and old bushes that have made “friends” over the years with their seasonal “tenants”…morning glories and honeysuckle…and as for me…just let them grow…I love them all! 🙂

Dear Reader:

I decided today that I would do a “mini”  “Petal it Forward” by giving my newest neighbor Mary…some fresh flowers from the garden. She has been working so hard in her yard, she has added on a back porch with a soothing metal roof for rainy days…and I thought all this hard work should be recognized.

If any of you are watching the Hallmark channel…you know they are celebrating “Christmas in July” so I thought I could combine the two ideas…taking a homespun bouquet of flowers from my garden to Mary for all her hard work…a “Christmas present in July.”

I didn’t realize that they make cards for just this occasion but I should not have been surprised….love this one.

As I entered my garden to select the flowers I stuck to mums and zinnias…they keep budding and blooming over and over replacing themselves…my kind of flowers.

There is nothing (to me) more charming than fresh flowers straight from the garden in a bottle – for a vase. Simplicity is always more enduringly beautiful than  exaggerated expensive bouquets.

The originators of “Petal it forward” came from the Florists of America, in 2018. They came up with an enticing random act of kindness concept….over 400 florists across the country participated…Each customer who came in on a certain date…got two “simple” but beautiful bouquets for just coming in the shop.

One bouquet was for the customer to keep and the other was to “Petal it forward” for, perhaps, a stranger walking down the street who might appear to need cheering up or someone known to the customer going through a hard stretch. I love this random act of kindness idea!

I discovered an article titled: “The 30 Most Heart-Warming Acts of Kindness. I have narrowed it down to three samples of human goodness…hope you enjoy.

Policeman helps homeless man by giving him a shave and attire to wear for his job interview.

***Cops don’t just give out tickets and respond to crime scenes. Case in point: Tony Carlson, a police officer in Florida, was caught on camera carefully shaving the face of a man to help the latter land a job. The ensuing video went viral for obvious reasons, restoring faith in both humanity and community policing.

Olive Garden Server Shows up for a Customer’s Surgery

***While waiting on a family at the Olive Garden in which he works, Drew Lewis struck up a conversation with one of their kids. Like Drew, the child also wanted to grow up to be a police officer. After inquiring about the child’s unique T-shirt, which read #TommyStrong….

…Drew learned that his new friend would be undergoing brain surgery the following week. Because of their immediate bond, the child asked if Drew would come to the surgery to be there when he woke up. Going above and beyond the line of duty, Drew did—packing an extra “Police Academy” T-shirt for his young friend.

Four-year-old “President Austin” understands how to “walk the talk.” He takes money for birthdays and holidays instead of presents to buy chicken sandwiches to give out to the hungry. (Got my vote!)

***When 4-year-old Austin Perine of Birmingham, Alabama, learned that there were people in the world who were both homeless and hungry, he decided to do something about it. Donning a cape and going by “President Austin,” he asked his parents to take all the money they would spend on his toys and instead buy chicken sandwiches for him to hand out to the homeless. As he did, he gave each recipient a piece of advice: “Don’t forget to show love.”

Think about…if, after thanking God for another day each morning when we wake up…we should plan on making someone’s life a little better,  friend or stranger…in whatever creative way we choose… it will be a day well spent.

So until tomorrow:

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

“Littlest Big Red” III….a “clone off the old block.”  🙂

Poor little Tigger had surgery on a cyst on his head (now a cone around it…miserable for dogs) and he might have to have his teeth pulled. I agree with Mandy…he came home looking more pitiful than I have ever seen him.

Tigger is our oldest grand-dog…Mandy and John got him soon after their wedding …before Mandy’s birthday on Labor Day 2008. So he is the patriarch of all the granddogs…(Since we are about the same age…we can commiserate together about getting older with more medical “problems’ popping up.) 🙂

Tigger and Eva Cate have grown up together…he has been her “big” brother since he is  a year older….the two go back a long way!

Eva Cate’s first molar fell out yesterday…maybe as a symbolic sympathy token for Tigger. Her smile is big but still don’t think we see where her molar fell out. 🙂

Please keep our little dog in your hopes, wishes, and prayers to fully recover…he has stolen our hearts…leader of the pack.