Category Archives: art

Sep22

Summer’s Afterglow

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Summer’s Afterglow

Autumn is summer’s afterglow. The trees radiate the sunrays. This first day of autumn, rain is what we need. Dark clouds rolled in a couple of times this past weekend provided a little moisture, but we need more. Earlier this month, while Dean and I journeyed through the valleys of Virginia and a visit to Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, embers of autumn ignited into glowing yellows, flaming oranges, and burning reds with a few trees and bushes on the hillsides. Puffy clouds in the sky so blue billowed from the mountain tops like smoke from the fires below. My Missouri will hopefully experience this colorful transformation soon. I am thankful the autumn equinox is here! Meantime, I enjoy the repurposed stain glass window from Dean’s parents’ Kansas City home of 50 years. This colorful piece is now hung in Dean and I’s cottage home.

A new season has begun. Self-care is high on my list of priorities. Discoveries await. Dean and I’s much needed getaway to the countryside gave us rest to our bodies and souls. I have experienced much pain this year, started in March. Two discs in my lower back and two discs in my neck are misaligned causing migraines and traveling pain down my legs and arms into my feet and hands. Thankfully I have had some good physicians, nurse practitioners, and physical therapists. Prayers for healing have been many to our God. More recently I am able to function in most everyday activities with less medication. Some activities will have to be eliminated altogether. Changes are forthcoming.

As many are aware, I have been writing for years. It began with journaling and moved into submitting to online publications, and have had my poems, short stories, and recipes published. My first full-length book has been published this week! It is a work that I have been after for over four years since my retirement from human resource management. Strewn Words in the Stew is a multi-genre 2-volume memoir of my culinary life. Recipes, poems, short stories, favorite sayings, and photos fill up the pages. Volume 1 is available now, and Volume 2 should be available on Amazon/KDP in November. If interested, you may purchase my book through Amazon. Formats include Kindle, paperback, and hardcover.

What discoveries are at and beyond the horizon for you? Keep praying, seeking, and discovering.

Aug7

Beauty in Early August Blooms

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Beauty in Early August Blooms

How lovely this August started out. Mild 80-degree temperatures for the high! Unreal for the St. Louis area. Later this week it has heated up into the low 90’s with some humidity, but unlike the soupy July days or more like weeks we had. The afternoon scattered showers are welcomed. I hear the katydids and bugs sing their rhythmic tunes late afternoon into the evenings now. Maybe giving a holler about cooler weather coming? I am relishing the remaining summer days this season. And more walks in the upcoming days and weeks.

“Where flowers bloom, so does hope.” ~ Lady Bird Johnson 

Loving all the garden art along with the blooms found in our yard, the neighborhood, and online by fellow gardeners. Our surprise lilies were slow coming up this growing season. But during the milder August weather, they sprouted up in our backyard amidst the wild violet and garlic foliage. Be blessed this August Thursday. Thankful it is Friday tomorrow, and looking forward to a three-day weekend for Dean and I.

Jul12

The Red, White, Too Blue

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The Red, White, Too Blue

The red, white, and blue flew high and mighty this 4th of July as well as the days leading up to the holiday and afterwards. This July holiday is a day to celebrate our freedom here in the United States. What colorful traditions we have adopted for this day: the American flag, fireworks, banners, car shows, comfy decor, white picket fences, blooming red poppies, festive hometown parades, berry pies, and excited grandkids. This year was marked differently, too blue. The unexpected, sudden death of our son-in-law, Mick Dickus. May he rest in peace and the gracious freedom of being with our Savior, Jesus and heavenly Father. Peace, I say, I pray for Mick’s family and friends he leaves behind. We are blessed to have known you and your passion for all things organic and natural. May we be better people knowing these earthly and heavenly precepts.

https://www.czboyer.com/obituaries/michael-dickus

Jun19

This June’s Bipolar Nature

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This June’s Bipolar Nature

What magnificent spring weather we have relished in these past three months in Missouri. In my recollection it has been many years since we have experienced three full months of spring. Typically, in these parts of Missouri, it is a long winter with a rushed four weeks of spring, then right into the heat of summer. According to the weather forecasters, that heat of the summer comes this weekend. With this true spring has come thunderstorms and tornadoes. The weather has a bipolar nature. The damaging winds wreaked havoc in the St. Louis area more than once. The city has not seen such devastation in over 50 years. Recovery is day by day.

Dean and I have a huge, 50 – 60-year-old tulip poplar tree in our backyard which became victim to a pop-up thunderstorm a couple of evenings ago. It lost three medium to big-sized branches which landed between our house and the neighbor church building. Believe me, there are plenty of other branches for its survival. Today, I spent about an hour picking up small branches in the backyard and found a few in the front yard. My injured back only allows so much bending over, and it starts talking to me. I stopped before it started screaming at me. Dean has his various sized saws in use, binding up the large branches cut to 5-foot length as required by our trash company, and the smaller branches going in our lawn refuse totes and lawn bags.

A June respite comes with the mild temperature days. Some resting, meditating, reading, and writing this month. I have to thank God we are safe after each storm. Damaging gutters and roofs can be fixed and clean-up long, but Dean and I are safe and are generally in good health. I facilitated a writers’ workshop in Clarksville, Tennessee earlier this month. The six ladies gleaned much from this workshop where my co-facilitator and I emphasized the importance of observing with all seven senses. Yes, there are seven senses identified now. The traditional five are sight, smell, taste, hearing, touch. The two others are vestibular, associated with movement and balance, and proprioception allows a person to associate one’s own body with space. These last two are related to touch. I will mention there is a spiritual sense, which would make eight senses total for those who are believers.

“A comfortable breezy June morning … The clover is now in its glory. Whole fields are rosed with it, mixed with sorrel, and looking deeper than it is. It makes fields look luxuriant which are really thinly clad. The air is full of its sweet fragrance… These are the clover days.” Henry Thoreau

Thoreau wrote several lines in his journal on June 19, 1852, mentioning many other types of vegetation such as the crops of corn and potatoes, berries on the vines with anticipation of their ripening, even mildew and fungus he writes about. Several birds are included in his journal. He doesn’t miss any of the details and uses all his senses in his writings. Midway in this journal entry Thoreau mentions clover in three sentences and concludes with “the clover days” of June.  I have seen clover growing prolifically this month. The honeybees love clover, which makes for healthy gardens. The bees will come if the chemicals are not used. Folks, keep it organic like in Thoreau’s time. Keep all those senses stimulated. And journal your experiences.

Jun7

Connection

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Connection

Connection, connections. “I got connections”. Many made during the Clarksville Writers’ Conference. I, along with about 100 other ladies and gentlemen listened to words, shared words, made the connection in our minds on next steps as writers, and connected with each other as friends. Many seeds were sown this week for such purposeful, beneficial blooms of the future. The workshop “Seeds For Your Word Gardens” I co-facilitated with Shana Thornton, publisher, author, and historian. We had some terrific writers eager to learn from each other. What an experience! Dean went with. We reserved through Airbnb and had a cozy basement apartment out in the country with deer, wood thrush, and morning and evening fog near the Cumberland River. This foodie and spouse love the local eateries. Found a wonderful Thai place and coffee & tea space. We heard the Nashville Symphony one lovely evening. My husband had some much-needed rest, took some awesome photos (some shared here), and together we met some friendly folks connected to the writers’ conference or this river town. Please join us next year. Take the last train to Clarksville, Tennessee to attend this writer’s or learning-to-be-a-writer conference on June 2 – 5.

“All flourishing is mutual.” ~ Robin Wall Kimmerer

Apr1

Someone New, Something Blue

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Someone New, Something Blue

Welcome great-grandson! River Martin Hulsey! Precious life! Congrats to Hannah and Jay!

Someone New, Something Blue (River’s Poem)

Someone new, something blue

came flowing into our lives.

Little River, darling River

you captured a million senses.

Hear the peep of our babe,

the coos, the gurgling noises, too.

Smell the freshness like dew,

in a blue blanket so soft, anew.

Taste your softness on our lips

the flutter of a butterfly kiss.

See your perfect hooked pinkie

today not too tiny and one day mighty.

Plentiful dark hairs capping

your perfectly handsome head.

Someone new, something blue

came flowing into our lives.

Little River, darling River

you captured a million senses.

Anna Marie Gall ~ April 2025

Mar30

A Simpler Time

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A Simpler Time

“Blossom by blossom the spring begins.” ~ Algernon Charles Swinburne

Seatherny overcomes the gloomy spring day. The birds chirp despite the gray sky. My heart lightens like the cherry tree blossoms floating with the wind similar to snowflakes. The warmth of the sun and the songbirds remind me it is springtime. I focus on this present moment.

“As cherry blossoms bloom and fall, they whisper to us the wisdom of impermanence, urging us to live fully in the present moment.” ~ Unknown

“Take me back to simpler times when daisies spoke, clouds formed pictures and ladybugs were lucky, when an hour was timeless and everything was new. It’s all still there inside. In crazy times, it makes this dreamer’s heart happy to close my eyes and remember.” ~ Jody Doty

Too many cares from the previous week. Disease, devastation, disappointments, and even death have dominated my thoughts. Today’s Sunday drive to the countryside provides more pleasant present moments to remember for this coming week. The grass isn’t necessarily greener on the other side of the fence, but stepping out of the muck can shed a lighter point of view that doesn’t weigh down my mind and heart. I am ready for a fairytale tea party.

“She wore her yellow sun-bonnet, 

She wore her greenest gown, 

 She turned to the south wind  

And curtsied up and down. 

She turned to the sunlight

And shook her yellow head,

And whispered to her neighbour:

‘Winter is dead.’  ~A. A.Milne

Feb16

Your Kiss Is On My List

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Your Kiss Is On My List

There are so many love songs, lyrics that touch the heart. Some melodramas, some heartaches, and others about lasting love. What is your favorite love song? Your Kiss Is On My List is the one playing in my head this Valentine’s season. I even found a little Valentine card for Dean with these words. This long Valentine weekend makes for a festive celebration for more than one day. Reservations at the restaurants are slim pickings. So going simple made Dean and I’s evening just right with a carry-out heart-shaped pizza from Papa John’s, chocolates, cookies, and sweet Valentine messages. Practical and thrifty is what we both are becoming in our older age. We just returned from a 9-day trip to the midwestern south last weekend, spent enough on our vacation. More little Valentine gifts were shared with the kids, grandkids, and friends. I hope you shared some love with your family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, and fur babies.

Preserved Love by Anna Gall   
Subtle, sweet, the simplicity of a stemmed, thornless rose. A single long-stem red rose given for Valentine’s Day. Another for our anniversary. And then another for my birthday. He remembers those special days with a single rose. The color will change from one special day to another. Maybe based on his mood, or mine. Whether red, pink, purple, white, or yellow, the gift is always given with tender love in the simplest form and received with gratitude and mutual love. Sometimes included are the sweet nothings whispered in my ear or scribbled on a note.   
After three or four days admiring the rose’s loveliness, the rose is taken to the basement and pinned upside down from the clothesline to dry. On occasion a bouquet with multiple roses is given to celebrate a special event. Or it might be a sign of truce after a squabble, or forgiveness for something more offensive. Soaking in the kind gesture for three or four days, the whole bouquet is turned upside down, twine wrapped around the stems tight, and hung to dry like the single rose. The preservation of a bouquet takes longer. Its sacredness all the same. Over the years dried rose bouquets gather in vases and dried rose petal potpourri fill mason jars. These floral displays are situated in prominent places in our historic cottage home. One antique ceramic vase given by a beloved brother now gone from this life holds a dozen pinkish buds above a shelf of family photos. Another bouquet of dried purple roses and baby red rosehips grace the guest bedroom near a quart mason jar wrapped in a white netting ribbon filled with withered pinkish rose petals and baby’s breathe. Preserved deep red roses are seated in a short clear glass vase at the base of Mother Mary’s statue. The rose, a symbol of love, romance, beauty, purity, courage, and virtue. Its vibrant color tells the story, its fragile condition continues that story with each petal. Thousands over the years, match the love that will last a thousand years or more. Well beyond this earthly life.  

The baby shower for our granddaughter, Hannah and her fiancé, Jay was a great celebration on Saturday. Held in DeSoto at the CIA Hall, made for a full day with set-up, preps, games, gift opening, and clean-up. The woodland theme was quite cute. Yes, I am going to be a great-grandmother in April. I hope my great-grandson will call me “GG Anna”. It’s much easier to say this name rather than great-grandmother as well it just doesn’t sound as “old”. I’m not in denial, I know I am getting older. My body reminds me of this every day, arthritis, required good eating habits, meds every morning and night, and bedtime about 9:00pm. Speaking of, it’s that time. Tomorrow, I have 75 meals-on-wheels clients to feed and another 20 in the dining room of the senior center I work at. I work a half day every weekday and get my nap in almost every afternoon. A nap has been a regular occasion since my young motherhood and will continue well into my great-grandmother years.

Jan19

The Mid-January Landscape

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The Mid-January Landscape

“In winter … temporarily abandoned by my suddenly frigid lover, the garden.” ~ Margaret Roach 

I love my perennials, herbs, and flowers during the warm growing season. The dread of the winter months in Missouri has lessened as I have learned to love staying indoors, too. Time slows down, and I slow down to read and write. This week included a few afternoons to do just that. Besides, some of my green friends come indoors with me for four or five months. My poem “The Neighbor’s Tree” is started on Thursday afternoon while sipping on a cup of Earl Grey tea, watching the birds at the feeders, and gazing at the colorful sunset. I finished the poem when we gathered in Kansas City with family for another indoor weekend. Our granddaughters made valentines for Papa and me. The children did carpet sledding in the living room rather than snow sledding as single-digit temps started our days this weekend and will continue this coming week. A message from the 8-year-old was left in the bedroom we stayed in, “remember do good things”. Out of the mouths of babes. The mid-January landscape dressed in glistening snow was a beautiful sight during our travel eastward to home this afternoon.

The Neighbor’s Tree
The neighbor’s tree this wintry late afternoon
reaches upward to the gray-blue sky, the sun
spotlights its rough-barked limbs outlined in white.
The squirrels scurry back and forth
on a quest for more seeds and nuts
as the light creeps into the evening.
Pinks and purples fill the once blue sky
as shadows dissipate, dimness surrounds,
dusk gently blankets the snowy hillside.
The obscurity, ambiguity, then a glowing light,
the sun’s rays concentrate as a flashlight, 
a January twilight is on the horizon.
Then night takes over minute after minute
with subdued moments leading to a hush,
the songbirds utter quiet rest in their nests.
The neighbor’s tree this late evening
is a perch for this night’s chatty barred owl,
“Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?”
Anna Marie Gall - January 18, 2025

“Remember do good things.” ~ Elise Gall

“One kind word can warm three winter months.” ~ Japanese Proverb

Dec24

This One Gift

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This One Gift

Preparing for the holiday season was simple this year. Primitive, I suppose. With my grandson’s young cat in the house, no extravagant decorating. A tabletop tree with white lights, white and red beaded garlands, with no ornaments but the lone gold star for the topper. Shopping took place here and there for the past three months. Packages are wrapped of gold ribbons and paper fluff. At this season of giving Dean and I will be bearing gifts at small gatherings throughout the next two weeks. Our employers and my ladies’ group had their holiday parties. For Dean and I no single big gathering. With my family of origin, it is now just my sister and me. With Dean’s family, his siblings have multiple families to stretch their time with. Our grown children, too. Sickness kept us from visiting family in Kansas City this past weekend, but in a couple of weeks we will try again. Dean’s father will join us Christmas afternoon for holiday goodies, a scrumptious homemade dinner, and watching football.

Despite all the holiday pomp and circumstance, what is the one gift that matters? Jesus. His presence. His love. The meaning of His birth reaches to the Heavens and covers the whole Earth. This year of celestial phenomenon such as the Northern lights seen in Cades Cove and the total solar eclipse that swept across the northern hemisphere, still nothing compares to the birth of our Lord Jesus. God’s gift to you and me.

“Once in our world, a stable had something in it that was bigger than our whole world.” ~ C.S. Lewis