Dear Reader:

This has been the most restful week (after stomach viruses and Halloween last week.) I have slept more hours the past four days than I usually do in a full week. It is as if I just can’t get enough sleep.

The overcast skies and dark, rainy days have definitely contributed to my excess slumber (not counting daylight savings time)….which have taken the form of afternoon naps and -ten-hour snoozing nights. Boy, do I feel refreshed!

So yesterday my creative juices started flowing again and I felt energized enough to start the transition from Halloween to Thanksgiving. Thank goodness this transition isn’t as dramatic as Thanksgiving to Christmas….I just put up the “Boo’s” witches, spiders, jack o’lanterns and I was good to go.

Except for one jack o’lantern….in a post-Halloween sale on amazon.com there was a wall painting where the jack o’lantern lights up (battery operated) in the painting…it was 75% off…so I ordered it and it arrived Tuesday.

Since then I have fallen in love with it…because the lights flicker giving me the sensation of burning embers in a fireplace….the same comfort without all the work and ashes….besides it is way too warm for a fire right now.  So this little jack o’lantern has earned a spot on the hearth through Thanksgiving! It makes my happy room warm and cozy!

*Oops…I haven’t gotten rid of all my “Boo’s” yet….Cindy Ashley stopped in yesterday afternoon to bring me something and an idea on how to use it.

Cindy suggested that if guests ask….“Now are you called Becky or Boo…simply hold up the napkins and respond “Boo Y’all!“

My creative mode started with a pick-up lunch from the tea room. Gin-g and I were talking about getting together soon for lunch and we mentioned Time Well Spent. It would be at least a week before we could do it and suddenly I was craving Eve’s chicken salad.

When I got home and opened the styrofoam box the presentation inside the box was amazing. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to place everything just perfectly in alignment. Besides my mound of chicken salad…thinly cut apple slices garnished the salad, with a vibrant-colored diversity of fruit…along with the restaurant’s famous scones and marmalade. (Heaven chefs…I am pre-ordering this for my first meal when the time comes…okay?)

It was too pretty to stay in a styrofoam box…so I moved it to a plate worthy of its elements.

After eating all this…I looked like the energizer bunny running around…I was just about to put up a little cloth bag with a pumpkin sewn on it when I realized I had a few flowers (left over from an earlier arrangement that I needed to throw out) that were still good.

What if I put the blooms in a tall, thin vase and then dropped it inside the bag while adding my pretty fall leaf from last week’s discovery?

While checking on the grandchildren’s stockings to make sure they were all accounted for…I realized I needed to order one more stocking this year…for Master Lachlan. While scrounging around the drawer I saw a bag and opened it. It was filled with “golden apples.” 

I went to my computer and googled the symbolism of golden apples on Christmas trees. Stories of golden apples originate as far back as Greek mythology, Egyptian traditions, and later Gaelic traditions. They also played important roles in medieval fairy tales.

Long before there was a Christmas, Egyptians brought green palm branches into their homes on the shortest day of the year in December as a symbol of life’s triumph over death.

Romans adorned their homes with evergreens during Saturnalia, a winter festival in honor of Saturnus, their god of agriculture.

Druid priests decorated oak trees with golden apples for their winter solstice festivities. (I stuck with decorating one fallen tree branch and added a candle)

From one obscure fairy tale…comes this little message about golden apples on trees of all kinds:

“Cover the branches with golden apples…and dream the whole night through;  the golden apples are magic and will make your dreams come true.”

In the Victorian Christmas period…the idea of this saying gave parents some leverage for getting their children to bed Christmas Eve…and with Old St. Nick arriving…their dreams did come true….For wealthier families… the tradition even went farther… down to golden apples in the children’s stockings.

Christmas at Windsor Castle….Queen Victoria and family.

So until tomorrow….Father…Let us always remember to present ourselves to others the way we would to You if we saw you walking down the street… by counting our blessings and then sharing them.

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

I had heard of the poet, Mary Oliver, earlier in her career, but I didn’t immerse myself into her poetry until rather recently in life.

I thought the title photo visually defined two lines from her poetry which reads:

“Do you need a prod? Do you need a little darkness to get you going?”

This line comes from one of her more recent poems called “The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac” (Part 3).

The fourth sign of the zodiac is cancer. This poem (which has four parts) deals with Oliver’s diagnosis of lung cancer and her own mortality. It is found in her book of poetry titled: Blue Horses.

The truth is…most of us do need a prod or a scare sometime in our life to wake us up to the life we have been missing. We have become lost in the misty mundane routines of life, missing out on the beauty and gifts God lays before us each day.

Let me share each of the four parts of the poem: The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac…because each part spoke volumes for me and I think it will for you. .

Part 1:

Why should I have been surprised?

Hunters walk the forest without a sound.

The hunter, strapped to his rifle,

the fox on his feet of silk, 

the serpent on his empire of muscles-

all move in a stillness, 

hungry, careful, intent

Just as the cancer

entered the forest of my body

without a sound.

Why are we surprised when we learn we have a challenging health problem and especially when it is potentially life-threatening?(Particularly if the problem deals with an heredity disposition or brought on by unhealthy habits over an extended period of time)

Yet we always are…we walk away from the doctor’s office like a deer in headlights…stunned and temporarily paralyzed in our cognitive capabilities to process it…Am I going to die? These things happen to other people…not me.

Oliver is right in her metaphor that cancer is a silent predator…who “enters the forest of our bodies without a sound.”

Part 2:

The question is,
what will it be like
after the last day?
Will I float
into the sky
or will I fray
within the earth or a river—
remembering nothing?
How desperate I would be
if I couldn’t remember
the sun rising, if I couldn’t
remember trees, rivers; if I couldn’t
even remember, beloved,
your beloved name.

As soon as the initial shock wears off of us…our thoughts do turn to the unknown. Is there another world out there waiting for me and will I see my loved ones again and remember those who went before and those I leave behind?

Part 3:

I know, you never intended to be in this world.
But you’re in it all the same.

so why not get started immediately.

I mean, belonging to it.
There is so much to admire, to weep over.

And to write music or poems about.

Bless the feet that take you to and fro.
Bless the eyes and the listening ears.
Bless the tongue, the marvel of taste.
Bless touching.

You could live a hundred years, it’s happened.
Or not.
I am speaking from the fortunate platform
of many years,
none of which, I think, I ever wasted.
Do you need a prod?
Do you need a little darkness to get you going?
Let me be urgent as a knife, then,
and remind you of Keats,
so single of purpose and thinking, for a while,
he had a lifetime.

Don’t we all, at different times in our lives, think we are invincible and will live forever? And not just in our teenage (immortal) years but even later as we get caught up in society’s definition of a day in our life….fixing meals, getting kids off to school, going to work, fixing more meals, shopping, attending meetings and community functions, and then repeating it over and over.

*Keats was only twenty-five when he died…leaving us devoid of this wonderful God-given talent of prose he possessed.

Part 4:

Late yesterday afternoon, in the heat,
all the fragile blue flowers in bloom
in the shrubs in the yard next door had
tumbled from the shrubs and lay
wrinkled and fading in the grass. But
this morning the shrubs were full of
the blue flowers again. There wasn’t
a single one on the grass. How, I
wondered, did they roll back up to
the branches, that fiercely wanting,
as we all do, just a little more of
life?

I think we can all associate with the fierce desire to continue living when we are fighting our hardest to do so. So many times in my garden I have witnessed stems or blooms or a plant itself, dried up and withered beyond recognition….only to see it days or months later…more beautiful than ever before. Everyone and everything wants to live.

*I am happy to let you know (in case you didn’t) that Mary Oliver is now in her early eighties and (thus far) appears to have beaten her lung cancer.

I’d like to leave the blog post today with this final thought by Oliver:

” I don’t want to end up simply having visited the world.”

So until tomorrow….Father remind us each day to get our hands in the dirt, give someone a hug, laugh a lot, and hold hands with each other… when facing the challenges life presents.

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

*Update: Nancy, Anne’s sister, was unable to have the surgery yesterday to remove some nodules/lymph glands…her pulse rate was too high and the doctors didn’t want to take any chances. Hopefully she can try again soon….but do continue keeping Nancy, Anne, and the family in your prayers. Another unexpected “bend in the road.”

Dear Reader:

After reading about the term “Novemberish” in yesterday’s blog Anne sent me this picture that her sister, Nancy, had emailed earlier…a photo of an exquisite November Maine morning. (No “Novemberish” gloom and doom up there either.)

Hi Becky,

I loved your blog today.  I had just been marveling at the photo Nancy stopped to take this morning on her lane as she was headed to Boston. 

Her surgery is tomorrow (prayers, please), and it’s as if she wanted to take a little of this gloriousness along. Our take on Novemberish-ness is all about the love of our Creator, isn’t it!

The impending surgery, today for Nancy, following her chemo treatments, could possibly be a big benchmark ending to her breast cancer treatments if the surgeons can successfully remove the last “annoying” nodules.

Please say a prayer that this is the case and November will always be remembered as a time of serenity and change…a second shot for Nancy at this beautiful thing we call life.

On Nancy’s trip to Boston, I am sure she came across many bends in the road and the metaphor is quite evident. Throughout our lives we will continually run into another bend in the road. What is behind that bend is a mystery to us. It could be something amazing or something quite challenging…we won’t know until we complete the turn.

A year ago…Nancy would not have been able to see the breast cancer that lay in wait around the next bend in the road….and now…Nancy is getting closer and closer to seeing her body healed from this intrusive disease.

In Charles Kuralt’s popular series “On the Road ” he talked a lot about the next bend in the road that would lead him to another powerful, human interest story he never foresaw coming.

In  the 1980’s New York Times  did an article on Kuralt….the following paragraph described his new show:

The shows will open and close with a little ditty sung by a man with a twang in his voice and set to banjo music. Mr. Kuralt wrote the lyrics: ”All these years, I’ve been a-wandering. Just when I think I’m near the end, I always see the road a-bending. I wonder what’s around the bend.”

What’s around the bend tonight is typical Kuraltia: a small factory in Blenheim, S.C., where antiquated machinery prone to break- downs bottles ginger ale that burns Mr. Kuralt’s throat and makes his eyes water.

*I bird walk here somewhat…but a few years ago I was working with a school that was struggling meeting the state standards in Bennettsville, South Carolina. Everyone I met, while I was there, told me I had to have a bottle of Blenheim ginger ale before I left.

(Obviously it is an old joke…a teacher brought one bottle the last day I was there eating lunch in the cafeteria with them….the snickering should have given it away….but I took one swallow and sprayed the whole table. My entire insides were on fire and my eyes started rolling around in different directions. I can sympathize with Kuralt.)

Aren’t we so glad that we can’t see what’s around the next bend in the road….one of the constant mysteries of life…only God knows and I am more than satisfied to leave the mystery to Him. As long as I know He is with me, no matter what appears on the other side of the curve, I am fine.

I figure one day I will go around the bend and there the road will end- no more bends…but until that day I am still curious and excited at the possibilities awaiting each turn.

So until tomorrow…Let us never lose the joy of anticipation and strength of courage to deal with each of our own personal bends in the road….knowing God is ahead of us …on the other side of the curve waiting.

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

* Here is a wonderful gentleman (who became known as “The Waving Man of Berkeley”) who Charles Kuralt discovered one day around a bend in the road. You will love it.

Joseph Charles – Waving Man of Berkeley – YouTube

This latest ’bout’ of rain is magically taking the green leaves of the poinsettias, planted by the bottle tree, into the artistic care of Mother Nature…who has brought out her palette…dipping her paint brush into the red and purples to color the poinsettia leaves….I can hardly wait for all of them to turn.

Dear Reader:

I came across the term “Novemberish” (which I don’t ever recall seeing before) so I looked it up in the dictionary. It means “dismal, bleak, dark” as attributed to the month of November.

Really? I thought to myself….I don’t think about any of those characteristics when I think of November. Especially in the lowcountry I like to consider the first two weeks of November as simply an extension of October….October Part Two.

*This idea works when we are having summer temperatures and the mums are as beautiful as ever, with summer sunflowers and Christmas poinsettias all blooming at the same time….this can only happen in the lowcountry.

The dark “Novemberish” term stems from our depressed little Scots in Scotland (I can talk since my father’s lineage is Scottish) where it can get pretty bleak and dark by November. In fact one old Anglo-Saxon root word traces the term back to blood-letting because it was when the animals were slaughtered for food with the fast approaching winter on its way.

For turkeys…I assume this (sadly for them) still runs true.

The first time the term was seen… was in a piece of prose by that melancholy little poetic Scot by the name of Robert Burns….he wrote:

” Here I sit, altogether Novemberish, a damned melange of fretfulness and melancholy.” 

(Now old Robert must have been a real “party pooper” to have around in November….cheer up Robert!)

Early November makes me smile….the leaves are still turning….most of the plants are ‘closing up shop’ which means less time spent tending to the garden. Instead late fall and early winter give gardeners a rare opportunity to see their garden through different eyes.

Perspective changes this time of year. Winter tunes the eye to every fine detail: the silhouettes of trees, the tangle of vines on the fence. These are lost in the time of riotous roses and 7-foot sunflowers. Winter lets you see the trees for the forest.

Late fall and winter give us the chance to dream about the changes we want to make in our yards and gardens for the next year. I am looking forward to the extra time to imagine new additions to the garden.

I am also looking forward to having my pre-Thanksgiving dinner with nephews, nieces, and whoever else pops up. It is a win-win situation….a time to catch up with the younger family members and then stay in pj’s Thanksgiving day…. watching the parade and ball games while continuing to stuff my face. Can hardly wait!!!

Right now I am going through (what I call) the Post Halloween-Pre-Thanksgiving transition….it is time to get rid of witches, jack o-lanterns (the pumpkins can stay, thank goodness) and other spooky paraphernalia…even my Boo’s…they are the hardest to let go of each year. Maybe tomorrow?

The only “Novemberish” feeling I got (yesterday) was when John sent me some pictures taken of Eva Cate’s last College of Charleston (ECDC) Halloween Parade to the Cistern.

It was just a blink ago that she was the shaggy dog there in the two-year-old class. Next year she will be in first grade at James Edwards….too fast…too fast.

So until tomorrow….Let’s be so happy we still have a beautiful month to enjoy (In the lowcountry this week that means living with raised windows, cool breezes, gentle rains…thus  saving electricity) Win-Win!

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

*My impatiens are no longer impatient…they love this November weather…not too hot…not too cold…just right!

Dear Reader:

Finally…after waiting all summer…a moon flower bloomed last night on the outside of the garden…the first one all season. The other moon flower blossoms have bloomed inside the garden gate where no one could see them unless they, themselves, were directly inside the garden and behind the gate.

With its beautiful white bloom…it seems to be celebrating All Saints Day in its own way.

Yesterday we had a beautiful service provided by our Memorial Garden  steering committee (which started as a dream of Teddy Marcot.) It took a long time to come to frutation….but like Teddy said…it came in God’s time…not ours.

The lighting of candles, the singing of “When the Saints Come Marching In,” communion, and quiet, reflective time to remember those loved ones who have gone before us, made this service very special.

Teddy asked me if I would tell the “David, the Dragonfly” (Circle of Life) story for the children’s message. I said “certainly” but wondered how she knew about that story. Later, when she was giving her personal history towards this beautiful memorial garden she mentioned that I had come over after her husband, Guy, passed and brought her a copy.

Isn’t that strange…how after these few years…that had slipped from my mind…but it had meant something to her. The power of the story lives on long after we do.

Our pastor, Jeff Kackley, mentioned something prior to communion that stuck with me long after leaving church. He said that the Greek root word in “paradise” meant garden. Anne and I nodded at the same time.

If I woke up in the next world and discovered heaven was a beautiful garden…there wouldn’t be anyone happier or more delighted than myself…a late-comer gardener.

In the Koran (Persia) paradise means a garden of pleasure. This really struck a chord with me…because of the pleasure my garden has brought me in its three-year existence.

The word “paradise” is only mentioned three times in the New Testament. One of these locations can be found in Luke: 23:42/43 Then  he said, “Jesus, remember me  when you come in   your kingdom.” 23:43 And Jesus   said to him, “I tell you the truth,  today  you will be with me in paradise.”

To people, living in arid desert habitats….don’t you think the idea of a garden, with flowing water and beautiful plants, would be your idea of heaven, too?

Didn’t man first meet God in the Garden of Eden? Until sin entered the garden and destroyed this “paradise” on earth….isn’t it interesting that God chose a garden for the first place that humans would experience and dwell within? Perhaps this is a “beginning” and an “end”? It all starts and ends with a garden.

Jeff, also, mentioned the scene when Mary Magdalene mistakenly takes  Jesus for a gardener beside the tomb.

I now see this as a beautiful metaphor….after all hadn’t Jesus spent his entire time on earth caring for it and its inhabitants?

The Renaissance Man, himself, Thomas Jefferson, who was a talented writer, statesman, diplomat, avid reader, author, farmer, architect, builder, educator, designer, scientist, explorer,  Vice-President, and President was once asked what profession he would choose if he could re-live his life. With no hesitation, he said quickly “A gardener.” “I have discovered that I am happiest with my hands in the dirt.”

Anne reminded me that Jesus sought gardens when he was troubled also…like his last night on earth…in the Garden of Gethsemane. I go to my garden when, I, too, am troubled and seeking an answer.

So until tomorrow…May we always stop to admire a garden…it shows a beautiful relationship between man and God.

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

My zinnias and other fall bloomers are still blooming but their foundation, their stems, are drying up and turning brittle. I can relate to their dilemma….there are parts of me drying up too…but I still want to keep on blooming for as long as I can.

*I tried to get a picture of this lantern blinking on and off as if a fairy had just awoken and was ready to fly out but my Iphone camera isn’t quick enough for that objective…Another moon flower blossom has climbed to the top of the wall to laugh at the moon.

This lone gerber daisy is still blooming all by itself…love its determination.

During church service yesterday I couldn’t forget that I lost a little friend this past year too….Lucy, the cat who adopted me. Miss you little friend Lucy but I know you are now taken care of by the very best.

This cute picture is a little deceiving…one might think that Rutledge is letting out a mighty roar…instead it was a really big yawn!

Dear Reader:

With Halloween over and All Saints’ Day here….the weather seems fitting today with its cloudy overcast skies. This is the day we remember loved ones we have lost in the past year and/or years prior to that….it is a day of reflection…hopefully mostly happy memories.

I find it interesting that Mexico has its “Day of the Dead” at the beginning of November with the belief that the monarch butterflies are ancestors’ souls returning each year to the family.

When we study history and cultural customs around the world…we find many similarities between all of us…different names for our ceremonies but, still, quite similar…it just re-enforces the belief that we are all connected in this world..no matter where we live.

Cindy Ashley found these five  interesting tidbits on pumpkins ( sent to her through Suburu e-newsletter)

*I figured with Thanksgiving just around the corner…filled with lots of pumpkin pies…this article might just give some good ideas!

Name origin

The pumpkin hasn’t always been called by that name. It actually has quite the linguistic history. According to KCET, this large, orange fruit was first called a “pepon,” which is the Greek word for “large melon.” Pepon was then nasalized by the French into “pompon,” but the English later changed this to “pumpion.” Finally, American colonists began calling the gourds “pumpkins,” giving them the name we use today.

The history of the jack-o’-lantern

Jack-o’-lanterns are a go-to Halloween decoration, but they weren’t always used for ornamentation. According to Country Living, the tradition of these carved, smiling pumpkins started when the Irish used carved turnips, potatoes, rutabagas and beets to ward off evil spirits. When Irish immigrants landed in America, they realized that pumpkins were easier to carve and much bigger than potatoes, making pumpkin-based jack-o’-lanterns the perfect way to keep evil spirits from entering their homes.

Medicinal properties

Feeling a bit sick? If you were living in the 18th century, then it is likely you would have been prescribed pumpkin to help cure your ailments. Country Living suggests that pumpkins were a cure-all in America during the 1700s, helping to heal people of everything from snake bites to freckles. Each part of the pumpkin is edible, which made it easy for 18th century physicians to find a “cure” to fit any illness.

Pumpkin production

Every year, the United States produces 1.5 billion pounds of pumpkins; think of all the pie that could make. The top pumpkin-producing states include Illinois, Ohio, Pennsylvania and California, making these states the perfect places to search for the ultimate Halloween pumpkin.

Different take on pumpkin pie

When you think of pumpkin pie, it’s likely you imagine a smooth, sweet taste that has a touch of cinnamon. Pumpkin pie did not always taste the way it does now, however.

According to KCET, early European settlers would instead create what they called “pumpkin pie” by cutting off the pumpkin’s top, hollowing out the shell and filling it with milk, honey and spices before baking it on hot ashes. This interesting take on a pumpkin pie isn’t as sweet as ours, but still sounds delicious.

(This article is presented by Crews Subaru of Charleston, South Carolina.)

……………………….

Let’s start with the babies….Way too cute to spook. I had gotten Jakie and Lachlan matching penguin outfits (even with a top hat!) They were adorable…but obviously not popular…with either boy. Jakie let his anti-penguin costume be known more visually and loudly…whereas Lachlan just resigned himself to sleep through it. *But they were so cute!

My first sweet surprise was finding pink pumpkins lined up on all the steps leading into the house….some Halloween elves must have all brought their race participant gift pumpkins for the occasion…it made me so happy. Love you family!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mollie brought a change of Halloween hats…she was ready for it!

Eva Cate was Anna (from Frozen- Kaitlyn braided her hair so adorable)) and Rutledge was a Clemson Tiger (thank goodness that turned out okay….whew!…close game)

We loaded Eva Cate and Rutledge in the wagon and we were off….we would experience scary witches, big spiders, and strange Clemson cheerleaders….but also nice little ladies with bowls of candy for little boys and girls.

Friends came over and look at Jakie and his friend…another little boy who goes to his school…they look like twins!

The “boys” didn’t want to be left out either…so they dressed up too….Rudy, Atticus, and Pip. (Rudy is still delivering the mail…and we love seeing him each time the family gets together….we are still praying hard for him.)

This was our second annual family Halloween Extravaganza and it just gets better every year….it is always a celebration for me to have an excuse to bring the family together.

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

*Don’t forget to say “rabbit”…it is the first day of the month….November (hard to believe)

Dear Reader:

I received this adorable old-fashioned Halloween card from Honey who said she saw it and immediately thought the card was saying:” Please send me to Becky Boo!”

She was right…the card did want to come home to my house. I love vintage holiday cards…it makes me happy to see how prior generations decorated and enjoyed the holidays that our immigrant ancestors brought with them.

The other night I started turning channels and I caught the end of a make-over home. The decorator had added as a last piece of decorating…a wooden block on the mantle which read:

Life is Beauty Full

Every day I see so much beauty around me that it is almost overwhelming. I thought, however, last Wednesday when I was keeping Jakie…that while he took his morning nap….I would take my Iphone and select five pictures from John and Mandy’s yard  to show how much beauty lies before us.

This was my top favorite…a low-lying limb off Mandy and John’s pecan tree covered by the “resurrection fern.”

This same tree has the most beautiful Spanish Moss drooping down (hauntingly) from its branches like little ghosts. In the South we have our own tree ghosts that nature provides…no decorating necessary.

I love the pink tips on this tropical marsh plant that blooms in October as if planned for Pink Breast Cancer Month.

It actually forms the border, along with the wooden fence, to John and Mandy’s back yard.

These wild flowers between the Turners’ property line and the water… bloom beautifully in summer and fall….creating a peaceful, natural barrier to mull things over in life.

 Preserving as much indigenous plant life in our yards is very important. I love this section of the front yard with the palmetto fronds making giant fans to provide cool shade in the hot summer months.

Of course….who’s sleeping inside is the most “beauty full” of all…..

Jakie takes after his dad with his interest in the culinary department.

*Yesterday it was Master Rutledge’s time for the tummy bug to hit….so Boo Boo headed over….in spite of his digestive issues….Rutledge played hard with his trucks( of course.) We read a Spooky Tire story I had found for him and he got to drink out of his “spooky” cup. These things always help tummy “bugs.”

We are all praying that Rutledge and Jakie are over the worst of their tummy “bugs” by tomorrow afternoon and praying nobody else gets it…. enough tricks….the children are ready for treats! BOO!

By early afternoon Rutledge’s little “bug” had drained him of all his energy….he crawled up on the sofa beside me (with all his trucks in tow) and fell fast asleep. I didn’t budge until Mollie got home…the cardinal rule works for grandmothers too….never wake a sleeping child.

Mollie sent me these photos she and Walsh took of Rutledge earlier in the week before the bug attack…that is the little Rutledge that we want to see Halloween Night!!!

• 
• I had the sweetest gift from Georgia hanging on my door when I returned….she said she was sorry it got here late for this year’s October Pink Race for the Cure….but I am thinking that a beautiful pink bow should have a place on my Christmas tree-
• Check out the website called Rally: Pink Bow Campaign. Wonderful organization!

When I opened my mail…Joan Turner had sent me two miniature paintings she had done….a fox pup she literally ran across in the park and later saw run back into his den (nestled in the fall leaves) and a beautiful “setting” using decorations from home. Life is Beauty Full!  What a “beauty full” talent you have Joan!  Happy Halloween!

Dear Reader:

It is the day before Halloween and Boo is revealing her mask for the big day. In tribute to my garden (which brings me such joy) I am the “lost” monarch butterfly….who is running late getting to Mexico by the first of November… in time for the two special festivals occurring.

The first monarchs arrive at their winter home in Mexico each fall by the first of November. Two events are taking place in Mexico when the butterflies appear. One is a seasonal event and the other a cultural event – natives connect the arrival of the monarchs with these events:

Monarchs and Corn Harvest:

People in the region have noticed the arrival of monarchs since pre-Hispanic times. In the language of the native Purepecha Indians, the monarch butterfly is known as the “harvest butterfly.” The monarchs appear each year when it is time to harvest the corn. 

Monarchs and the Day of the Dead

The Mexican holiday Day of the Dead (Dia de los Muertos) also occurs when the monarchs appear. According to traditional belief, the monarchs are the souls of ancestors who are returning to Earth for their annual visit.

……………………….

I decided to write a quick “Dingle Jingle” to explain why my monarch butterfly is celebrating Halloween in Charleston instead of going on to Mexico for “The Day of the Dead.

“The Lost Monarch”

I’m just a little monarch

Who was trying to get home

But every time I stopped

I forgot to leave and roam

Gardeners took snapshots of me…

And compliments came galore

Until  one day I realized

My time was gone…no more.

So to heck with all that dead stuff

I’d rather trick or treat

And eat lots and lots of “candy” corn

It  has the “Mexi-Corn Harvest” beat!

…………………………………

A couple of more “sneak peeks”- on-going preparations -which will appear tomorrow night!

The wagon is getting decorated for the kids to ride in and the newest Turner purchase…a giant spider with glowing eyes…patiently waiting in the garage for its moment of fame!

So until tomorrow….anticipation and excitement in the eyes of little ones make the world turn just a little brighter…..

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

A big Day Before Halloween Shout-out to Anne whose birthday is today. Have a great one- with lots of “Boo-ti-ful friends.“

Dear Reader:

Isn’t one of the most exasperating annoyances (that start occurring as we age) forgetting names and words?

When I looked up the reasons for this common frustration…it deals with harmones, aging glands, and several other technical, medical problems that are best left alone…but to summarize…everything is starting to dry up or slow down in its function of getting the “right stuff” to the brain  on time.

One of the most commonly heard expressions is “It was just on the tip of my tongue!”  So I thought it would be kinda fun to look up the origin….Nothing much appeared on the nationality of the origin because in almost every country…the expression can be found…it is an universal problem.

When I got to that part of the definition I could visualize it quite well. I remember one summer trying to get up enough nerve to go off the high dive….only to have some goofy boy behind me….walk out and push me off. I was furious…but I, also, discovered that I wasn’t afraid to jump or dive off the high diving board any more.

Wouldn’t it be nice if a friend could thump us on our back when our memory bank fails us…thus releasing the word or name (off the tip of our tongue) back into the conversation?

Did you know that there is actually a word for this common occurrence? It is called LETHOLOGICA.

“The word “lethologica” describes the state of not being able to remember the word you want.”

It would be kinda cool the next time I have a “senior moment” recalling a word… if I could stop and say: ” I apologize but but I am suffering from lethologica.”  The only problem is- I would never be able to remember the term lethologica.…so that idea would fall pretty flat.

One suggestion (from a group of medical “specialists”) for curing “lethologica” suggested that the speaker  define the word he/she can’t recall and let others help him/her identify it.

I can see this becoming quite annoying for the others at the table….it would be like playing word charades.

I might say: “I can hardly wait until Saturday to see the grandchildren all dressed up, in their costumes,  go ….. go….hummm…. go …you know… walking around to other people’s houses asking for candy?”  

Trick or Treating?….”Yes thank you…how embarrassing…the perils of aging gray matter grow stronger each year.”

Having “lethologica” is sometimes disturbing…but after cancer…it really is just a little annoyance. In fact…the way I look at it now…it simply means that we have lived long enough to have earned this trivial “bump” along our time-line.

We, recall word sufferers of a certain age, should be able to wear a large button on our shirt or blouse that says:

“I SUFFER FROM LETHOLOGICA…DON’T EXPECT ME TO REMEMBER YOUR NAME”

So until tomorrow….Don’t worry about forgetting words…just never forget “The Word.”

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

Poor little Jakie has been having tummy problems…nothing major…but just enough to prevent him from attending pre-school…so I went over to keep him yesterday and we had so much fun….will show you more photos tomorrow….but here’s to Jakie!

( The only time I don’t have to worry about forgetting a phrase…“I love you” is with the grandchildren- Jakie, Eva Cate, Rutledge, and Lachlan!)

Dear Reader:

October is flying too fast….if I could be a witch (a good one, of course) and fly on my magical broom through the night…it would be to turn back the hands of time  to October 1 and welcome this month again. (To have 31 days again to enjoy!)

The sounds and smells of this month can not be compared….crackling leaves, bonfires, bright redS, oranges, purples and greens splashing each leaf with its own identify. The smell of soups and pastas simmering on the stove…homemade breads with spices galore. And pumpkins, pumpkins, pumpkins in every possible and (impossible) marketable item.

This little beauty fell right by my feet walking up the steps to my porch Monday afternoon…it is my favorite leaf in the world, Eva Cate! (By its colors I think it is reminding us that Christmas IS JUST AROUND THE CORNER AND will be here before we blink!)

Robert Frost, in his poetic tribute to October, must have felt the same sadness at its annual demise as I am feeling… with the days scurrying along faster than the falling leaves.

BY ROBERT FROST