Embrace The Suck

"While we try to teach our children all about life, Our children teach us what life is all about." Angela Schwind Ever since the earthquake (and I think before but I'm not sure) my granddaughter and her mother have been going to Haiti to help out at an orphanage/school supported by their church. In fact the same week the earthquake hit back in January, Leila had her bags packed and was ready to go. And go she did. Talk about scary. I don't have all the details but I think the school is on the other side of the island from where all the damage took place. It's still Haiti, however, and that pretty much conjures up a picture of poverty. Every time Ashley and her mom take one of these mission trips, St. Thomas Johnny (yes he's moved again and this is only a temporary assignment!) goes a little nuts. He knows she's doing a good thing. He knows she's surrounded by people who will keep her safe. None of that matters until he gets the phone call that she is b

I can be a rather dramatic person. I can sometimes exaggerate the truth a little. Okay a lot. I can sometimes see boogy men where there aren't any. Except that I am a kind of a scaredy-cat girl who if the British were coming, I would have wanted to be hiding somewhere in the silver factory hiding behind a shelf full of candle sticks instead of on the trail, on a horse, announcing their arrival, there is a good chance that in another time and place, I could have been Paul Revere spreading the news like a CNN ticker tape. Okay, so I am really more like Chicken Little declaring the sky is falling. You might want to take this with a shaker full of salt. Every since my sisters were here I've been thinking my Dad was doing well both physically and emotionally. Dare I say he's been easy to be with, even enjoyable. However, for the last couple of days, maybe since the Symphony outing, he's had what he told the Hospice Nurse "the blahs." Immediately she, and I, though

I just looked in the mirror. Just for the record, I DO NOT look like Diane Sawyer. I look like Carol Channing. Yikes! Note to self .... as long as I'm sporting a short bob, do not buy red lipstick! Diamonds on the other hand would look quite nice! Wishing for you the ability to see yourself as you really are. And to like, really like, what you see, Merry ME

"Using its ability to transform colors and lights by reflecting and refracting them the Dragonfly shows us that life, like light, can bend, shift, and adapt in various ways, making life's appearance never be what it appears to be."* The oak blossoms have finished falling and temperatures are rising. Sweetie is spending less time cleaning the pool (although it is a never-ending job) and more time in it. I think he has been adopted by a dragonfly. He called me to quick come out to the pool, to bring my camera and to be very quiet. As if working for the National Geographic, with every ounce of stealth I could muster, I crept up as close as I could and started snapping pictures. If I had a more elaborate set up I feel sure I could have done this little fella, who was sat quite happily on an azalea limb posing for all he was worth. He eyes were a lovely shade of turquoise. His wings translucent and sparkly. His tail was a light blue. But in almost ever picture I took, with or

For some reason, as you have probably already discerned I seemed to have posted "Life is Good" twice. I can't figure out why! I think I was having trouble with the damned font size. It looked good, then I'd save it and when I came back to it, one row of letters was the size of half the post. When I cut and pasted onto a new page, I obviously neglected to delete the page that was causing me so much trouble, which I might add is no longer acting up. I should go back and delete one or the other but there are comments on both and since I love comments I won't mess with it! But for the record, I'm feeling kind of dorky! Merry ME

"It is the sweet simple things in life which are the real ones after all.” L. Ingalls Wilder Imagine my surprise when after passing by a billboard announcing the upcoming Cirque du Symphonie my father said, let's go! In fact, I noted the surprise then kind of forgot about it. Last Friday while Dad was reading the newspaper he saw the ad again. Let's go, he said. I tried to buy tickets on line which proved to be a process that, in my opinion, needs to be perfected some! Instead we hopped into the car (well, we didn't actually hop because both Dad and I are way past the hopping stage of our lives, but we moved quickly!) drove down to the Symphony Hall and bought tickets for that evening's performance. I found out later that Dad was expecting the full Cirque du Soleil experience which is maybe why he was so eager to attend. This was our first such outing in a long time. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's been years since he's agreed to do anything out of the o

I just went over to see what was happening at Bedlam Farm . Look what I found. Bartleby. OMG. Is that the cutest little black sheep you've ever seen? Take a gander at the look on this mother's face. In my book this it what life is all about. Contentment. Pride. Love. Welcome to the world, Bartleby. May all your all your bags of wool be full. Life is good, Merry ME

My friend Akasa Wolfsong has gifted me with this Life is Good award. If you know me, you must also know that I'm am tickled "pink" with the recognition. While there was a time in my life when I would have argued against the notion that "life is good" I am glad to say that for me, today, where I am, it is good. For that I am grateful. And as Pam pointed out on her blog this morning, joy just may be one of the keys to unlocking the secrets that make life so special. Along with the award came some questions. I always kind of worry about lists like these because I want my answers to portray my deep, insightful side. I'm not sure if I'm feeling insightful today but here's my best shot! Now for my ten questions.... 1. Who is your favorite poet? Can you ever go wrong with Dr. Seuss or Mary Oliver? I've never much been into poetry. A lot of it is kind of hard to understand. A lady in my writing, circle, Carol Folsom, has written some really great poems

My friend Akasa Wolfsong has gifted me with this Life is Good award. If you know me, you must also know that I'm am tickled "pink" with the recognition. While there was a time in my life when I would have argued against the notion that "life is good" I am glad to say that for me, today, where I am, it is good. For that I am grateful. And as Pam pointed out on her blog this morning, joy just may be one of the keys to unlocking the secrets that make life so special. Along with the award came some questions. I always kind of worry about lists like these because I want my answers to portray my deep, insightful side. I'm not sure if I'm feeling insightful today but here's my best shot! Now for my ten questions.... 1. Who is your favorite poet? Can you ever go wrong with Dr. Seuss or Mary Oliver? I've never much been into poetry. A lot of it is kind of hard to understand. A lady in my writing, circle, Carol Folsom, has written some really great p

I don't know about you, but I am starting to get very bugged - quite literally - by the advertisements that appear on my email page. For awhile there was this wrinkled old woman who morphed before your eyes into a beautiful lady with nary a wrinkle in site. And there is a fat lady who trims down into bikini size. And some old guy with long hair and a shaggy beard that just sits there staring at me. But none are quite so bothersome as the new one that appeared in the last few days. Way over to the right of my screen that I can really only see out of the corner of my eye, this God-awful cockroach goes scurrying up to the top of the screen then turns into a scad of little baby roaches. Now I realize it is an ad for pest control but personally I think it is taking animation just one step too far. See I live in the land of roaches. No let me correct that as my father would if were reading this. What I see dashing under any available shelter when I turn on the light into the garage are n

"Hair brings one's self-image into focus; it is vanity's proving ground. Hair is terribly personal, a tangle of mysterious prejudices." Shana Alexander Last night Sweetie asked me when I was going to write about something other than our recent family reunion. What, too much estrogen for him? Maybe living through it was less a monumental event for him than it was for me. Maybe he's right. The thing about these kind of get togethers is that I tend to compare myself against the rest. I've always been the tallest. Check out most any picture of the group and I'm in the back, with a small portion of the top of my head out of the range of the camera. And as my dad has been known to point out, I'm a big girl. This time he followed that truism with "just like my mother (meaning his mother) who was in fact not small. Indeed his side of the family was built bigger than my mom's side, though some of her people were taller than average. Guess you had to b

"She never quite leaves her children at home, even when she doesn't take them along." Margaret Culkin Banning My mom has been gone for seven years. We've grieved and moved on with our lives. It helps to think of her up in heaven talking and laughing like when she was young. Yet, each in our own way we miss her. A lot. Although nobody mentioned it while my sisters were here but I am pretty sure my mom was hanging around. Sometimes I don't think she ever left. I suspected she was there supervising the cooking of the roast, helping Dad blow out his candles, listening as each daughter told stories of her kids/grandkids, and reminding Dad to embrace his softer side. I'm sure that was her in the kitchen each night nudging me to rearrange the dishes in the dishwasher before turning it on and turning out the light. The thing that convinced me, however, that mom's spirit hovered overhead and surrounded us with her love, was when the gardenia bush in the back yard