Category Archives: attitude & action

Jan2

Sow A Seed in 2025

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Sow A Seed in 2025

The word I picked for 2024 was “present”. Be present each moment and treat each day as a present or gift from God. Many moments of my days I was fully present. I had quality time in prayer. Moments spent with a cup of tea, watching the birds at the feeders, the bees and dragonflies on the pineapple sage, lemon thyme, and mint plants. More family time whether planned or took the opportunity as it came about with my oldest daughter, youngest grandson, and my cousin and her husband as they all relocated to St. Charles. Many days were spent writing, being present moment to finish my 162-page memoir (before photos) on my culinary life as well a mini book of 49 Haikus entitled “Balancing The Seesaw”. But there were plenty of other days not so much present moment, as I did too much regretting the past or fretting about tomorrow. I missed out on the blessings of those days.

“Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves – slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future; live the actual moment. Only this moment is life.” ~ Thich Nhat Hanh 

In late February Dean and I took a trip to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina and Savannah, Georgia. I had been sick most of the frigid January and equally cold February but instantly felt better when we got into warmer weather and the sea breeze. Somehow, we need to make these 9 or 10 days stretch for 8 weeks. Maybe when we both are fully retired? That is at least 2 more winters after this one. The sinus infections and bronchitis lingered for weeks, with vertigo and inner ear migraines to follow. It was not until July after physical therapy and a prescription regiment that I felt normal again. This allergy to the cold is getting worse, not better as I get older.

“May this winter be gentle and kind – a season of rest from the wheel of the mind.” ~ John Geddes

Other trips were to Eureka Springs, Arkansas for a springtime culinary & writing workshop I presented at the Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow. We had multiple trips to the Kansas City side of the state to clean out Dean’s parents’ home of 50 years and place it on the market. It sold in June, and our weekend trips to Kansas City subsided the 2nd half of the year with occasional visits to see 2 of Dean’s kids and their families. We had a Labor Day trip to Jefferson City for a meeting place after Dean’s oldest granddaughter spent the weekend with us. Beautiful autumn family photos were taken in October near Dean’s daughter’s house. Three other travel destinations in 2024: a writers’ conference in Clarksville, Tennessee in June, a long August weekend in Branson with Dean’s kids and grandkids, and a flood relief trip to Asheville, North Carolina in November. The writers’ conference was excellent. The writers’ group that formed after the conference in 2023 provoke me to keep writing. We always have a good time in Branson. The Asheville trip proved productive taking donated winter clothing and blankets for the flood victims after Hurricane Helene left such destruction. We made new friends with our Airbnb hosts who coached us on non-profit groups to work with while in town.

“The area holds a magnetism beyond words.” ~ Country Cottage Living about Asheville, NC

I suppose the biggest surprise for 2024 was the death of my oldest brother, Rick. He suffered a heart incident on December 1 after arriving back at the local airport from a Thanksgiving trip to see his oldest son and family in Seattle. He never recovered after 10 days on life support. A young 65-years old, it seems Rick left this earth too soon. Jesus must have wanted him there in Heaven, where we all want to be once we pass on from this earthly life. Rick spent hours of research in his first 2 years of retirement and left an unfinished book about the men of the Lewis & Clark expedition. Dean and his love of archival history may be of assistance in the finishing of Rick’s book. My sister-in-law, Joan has this project in the plans for the near future. I miss my brother.

“The shadow side of love is always loss, and grief is only love’s own twin.” ~ Margaret Renkl

Dean and I’s occupations remain the same, Dean as an archival technician at The National Archives, and Anna as a culinary professional at Aging Ahead. This autumn I joined a women’s group, the local chapter of Epsilon Sigma Alpha (ESA). We serve the St. Jude Foundation, veteran, and local charitable organizations with fundraising and recognition efforts. These fellow sisters donated items for the Asheville victims. They were also there to comfort me after my brother’s untimely death. I look forward to building friendships while at our fundraisers and social events. Dean as well as other husbands assist from time to time. On occasion we make it to the DeSoto CIA and community events to support our friends.

“The lesson which life repeats and constantly reinforces it, ‘look under foot’. You are always nearer the divine and the true sources of power than you think.” ~ John Burroughs

Texas is on our radar for a few days this February to escape the Missouri winter tundra and weather. Soon after we will be welcoming our first great-grandchild into the world. My oldest granddaughter and her fiancé are due late March. Early June I will be presenting a workshop on block-out poetry and ekphrastic poetry at the Clarksville Writers’ Conference. The theme is on gardening, my favorite subject to write and talk about. A destination for admiring the more flowers, woods, and sunsets is planned for September.

“A seed neither fears light or darkness but uses both to grow.” – Matshona Dhliwayo

I promise to read for 25 minutes a day in 2025. My word for 2025 is “seed”. At the end of 2025 we will have lived a quarter of a century into the current millennium. Where does the time go? I dare say I have been busy, but maybe not busy enough with what really matters. Maybe I can make this 25th year count for what is truly worth the energy and time I expend. Sow a seed with a kind and sincere word; help with making the air fresh and the water clean; provide a garden, kisses, sheltering arms, a cozy bed, write words worth reading, and love enough for it to be returned.

“She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water, a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms, a cozy bed, and to love and be loved in return.” ~Starra Neely Blade

“Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. They weep as they go to plant their seed, but they sing as they return with the harvest.” ~ Psalm 126: 5 & 6

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 

Dec14

For Goodness’ Sake

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For Goodness’ Sake

There is a children’s character named Pete, The Cat. And our youngest grandchildren like a story and sing a song that goes like this … “Pete the Cat was walking down the street, Ooh, it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the children were playing. He was feeling good. He was wearing his brand-new white shoes. Ooh he loved those white shoes. He loved them so much. He walked down the street singing this song. I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes. Oh, no! He stepped in a large pile of strawberries. What color did it turn his shoes? Red! Did he cry? Goodness, no! He just started singing this song.” Pete, The cat steps into blueberries and had blue shoes, then mud and had brown shoes, water and then had wet shoes. Each time “He just started singing his song.” Writer Eric Mark Litwin ends the story with “no matter what you step in, keep singing and walking ’cause it’s all good.” Despite what happens, good can be found.

“Prepare the way, prepare the way.” ~ Isaiah 40:3

The world seemed to turn upside down these past 2 weeks. On December 1 my brother, Rick had an heart incident which followed with many complications. He died on December 10. We had his visitation and funeral Mass yesterday. Much transpired those few days while Rick laid unconscious in ICU. A multitude of prayer warriors went to work, me included. The words that kept coming from my lips “prepare the way, prepare the way” as I laid hands on Rick’s body and prayed to his spirit. Yesterday family and friends came together to say our good-byes and surround Rick’s wife, their two sons, daughters-in-law, and four grandchildren. The word “goodness” resonated from my nephew’s eulogy and the priest’s homily. Rick wasn’t perfect as none of us are, but by the grace of God his life reflected goodness. And goodness has been and will be found even in Rick’s death.

“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” ~ Psalm 27:13

During the eulogy my nephew exhorted each of us to do good as the world needs goodness. Father Chris left Rick’s family and friends with this word of encouragement. “As we think of Rick and his example of goodness in the coming days, leave a bit of goodness each day we live.” A bit of Rickness.

“Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever! Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men! For He satisfies the longing soul and fills the hungry soul with goodness.” ~ Psalm 107:1

Dec7

Frost-Bitten Holly Berries

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Frost-Bitten Holly Berries

Serene like a vintage Christmas card

embossed with frost-bitten holly berries,

pure white contrasted with bitter red.

The season of old bursting with promises

when walks in a snow-covered path

lead to a cozy cottage with a warm fire.

It all looks so beautiful, yet promises crushed

with unfaithfulness, sickness, poverty, death;

embers barely enough to keep the fire going.

Covered with the bitter cold that sickens

the weak body, confused mind, and suffering soul,

yet many frost-bitten berries survive until spring.

Anna Marie Gall ~ December 7, 2024

Nov19

November’s Remnants

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November’s Remnants

Amidst the earth preparing for winter with its blanket of fallen leaves, summer has left a couple of remnants in our front yard. The ketchup & mustard rose bush has a single bloom in mid-November. Spider plant shoots I planted in a ceramic planter hung in our dogwood tree still have green life lingering even through these cold autumn mornings. Dean and I left these summer remnants behind to drive 11 hours to the mountains in Asheville, North Carolina. Packed in boxes, we toted winter clothes and blankets donated by friends and family to be given to the hurricane survivors in Asheville. The desire to help the Appalachian folks and to see the Great Smokies coincided. It was a fast trip. We saw much devastation as well as heard heart-warming stories of humanity. These people are taking care of each other. Like the mama bear that lives in the woods behind the Airbnb home we stayed at. She takes care of her 2-year cubs who are getting big, closer to her size now. It doesn’t matter, it is instinct to care until the cubs are ready to go on their own. That day will come soon enough.

“And yet there is Someone, whose hands infinitely calm, hold up all this falling.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Dean and I delivered the goods to the folks in Asheville during the 4-day weekend. A staff member from an organization called BeLoved Asheville directed us to the best location for delivery. Our Airbnb host let us know about another organization called Hands On Asheville to get set up for volunteering on Sunday afternoon at an area supplies, water, and food distribution center for hurricane survivors. We took on sorting thousands of bottles of hand sanitizer and children’s books in the garden center of a local grocer in the small community of Black Mountain. Just down the road we witnessed major flood destruction. In Asheville’s River Arts District where much destruction can be seen at the riverfront, there still stands a metal art sign inscribed with these words, “All feet stand under the stars.” It felt good to take care of another’s feet with the warmth of socks, clothes, and blankets. Thank you to those who donated. We all stand together under the stars God has created for each of us, remnants pieced together for purpose.

Autumn by poet, Rainer Maria Rilke … “The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up, as if orchards were dying high in space. Each leaf falls as if it were motioning ‘no’. And tonight the heavy earth is falling away from all the other stars in the loneliness. We’re all falling. This hand here is falling. And look at the other one … It’s in them all. And yet there is Someone, whose hands infinitely calm, hold up all this falling.”

Oct13

Crispy October’s Preparations

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Crispy October’s Preparations

We have had several mornings with crisp air which means the first frost is soon. Today’s shifting air is the telltale sign. This evening’s weather forecast is predicting frost for Wednesday morning. While there is daylight, this afternoon Dean and our 14-year old grandson, Eli brought our perennials inside the basement. Wrangled are the two granddogs and grandcat to keep them inside while the yard gates and basement door swing open every few minutes for each ceramic pot brought in. We have 15 pots of greenery living in the basement for the next 5 months. One pot fell over and broke on the basement floor. Dean bought a plastic replacement pot as this arrowhead plant is ginormous. The plant light has a timer placed on it for daytime light. A garden hose is attached downstairs for watering. Unfortunately, we have no space for our green friends upstairs in our cottage home except for my small pots of kitchen herbs. This week I will snip branches off of the thyme, basil, mint, and sage plants, dry the leaves, and store in glass jars.

We have had a few family members with us this week. Canine and feline included. This morning while listening to a fellow writer group member’s TEDx talk on water footprint, she said the word “water” many times.  Not sure how many times, but it was enough to catch the attention of our visiting diabetic granddog beagle, Beatrice, who has an unquenchable thirst for water. She perked up every time she heard “water’.  We use the Spanish word, “agua” or “H2O” around this aging pet.  My daughter said it was karma for every time Beatrice barked for more water. Then this evening I started my colonoscopy prep, drinking 8 ounces of this stuff every 15 minutes until gone, 64 ounces! Beatrice is mooching for it! If this dog would only know what would be in her near future if she drank this water-based solution! I know, and I am dreading the next 8 hours! All a part of getting older! Crap, literally! Prayers, please, for these preparations and the procedure on Monday morning. There is that fall margarita I’d rather be drinking right now.

Aug18

August, Summer’s Last Stand

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August, Summer’s Last Stand

This summer has been wonderful. Not too many steaming hot days. The flowers keep blooming. The bright sunflowers keep turning towards the sun. Our hummingbirds and songbirds have been busy at the feeders in the mornings well into the evenings. Dean is making sugar water for the feeders every week or so. Many fledglings have taken their first flights from our yard this season. This week the summer bugs hum their tunes like it’s their last. A noisy August. A summer like this makes it harder to say “goodbye”.

This morning, the sun endures past dawn. I realize that it is August: the summer’s last stand.” ~ Sara Baume

A later sunrise each morning and a little earlier sunset comes with the beautifully amber glow evenings. As the month moves along, I sense the transition into early autumn with each day. The autumn colors of yellow, orange, and purple haze peer through the summertime greens. I welcome this changing of the seasons, especially the crisp air and gentle cooling breezes. Autumn decor of fabric gourds and pillows have appeared in our cottage. More metal art of pumpkins and the fall season will come out this week.

“Some days in late August at home are like this, the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar.” ~ William Faulkner

A Tasteful Transition

Vivacious summer lettuce greens to virgin olive green oil.

Meadow yellow buttercups to mellower ginger yellow.

Green rind watermelon to melon-tinted gourds.

Bright field poppies to pumpkin oranges.

Bowls with berries of purples and reds to

pies of red delicious and granny smith apples.

Sundaes with chocolate and caramel drizzle to

chai hues of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, brown sugar.

Ice creams and custards of creamy white to

a teacup of earl greyer vanilla with cream.

Summer’s sweetness to autumn’s hint of spiciness

welcomed in my mouth’s palette.

A tasteful transition.

Anna Marie Gall ~ August 18, 2024

Aug6

How To Cook Husbands

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How To Cook Husbands

I went to the library this afternoon to do some recipe and local history research. There were interesting cookbooks introduced in the 1800’s and 1900’s. I perused a more modern book, Pot Roast, Politics, and Ants in the Pantry: Missouri’s Cookbook Heritage written in 2008 by Carol and John C. Fisher. Sizzle, sizzle. Some hot stuff. One section of this book was labeled “How To Cook Husbands”. I cannot lie about this. It is a humorous prose piece written originally in two cookbooks called The Iron County Centennial Cook Book and Pure Food Cook Book. After the type of conversation I had with my husband this morning, while reading this prose I couldn’t help to think other women must have been married to my husband in another life or someone very much like him. Yes, I wanted to cook my husband this morning. No, I have not gone nuts. Just frustrated with my man of little words, except to insult my efforts in communicating with him. I love him. Please pray for us. Communication is our challenge. As I roast him, I must mention my Dean has wonderful qualities, too.

Rather than crying, this made me laugh. Please laugh with me as I share a few lines of this prose …. 

"A good many husbands are entirely spoiled by mismanagement in cooking and so are not tender and good. Some women go about it as if their husbands were bladders and blow them up. Others keep them constantly in hot water. Others let them freeze by their carelessness and indifference.  Some keep them in pickles all their lives.  It cannot be supposed that any husband will be tender and good managed in this way, but they are really delicious when properly treated ..."
Jul28

What The Heart Knows As The Summer Blooms

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What The Heart Knows As The Summer Blooms

Summer can bring a frenzy of activity like the hummingbirds with their multiple flights to the sugar-water feeders. Dean is filling those feeders with his homemade recipe every 7 – 8 days. The finches and sparrows are the same with the suet blocks we put out. Fattening up, those birds of song. Summer blooms and songs all around. I read about blackberries, bees, and honey. I sit, observing from our cottage’s windows, taking it all in this week while recovering from COVID. This morning, I am feeling well enough to walk outside in the midst of the sights and sounds. Sunday’s sermon will be given courtesy of Mother’s Nature. The biscuit & gravy chef made a plate for me this morning. My last day of quarantine will be a beautiful one. How blessed I am.

While the rains water and the sun warm the earth, this is what the heart knows as the summer blooms: it is good to sit awhile to reflect and pray. I pray for my children and grandchildren. My disabled daughter who lost their house in a fire 1-1/2 years ago is living in a huge travel trailer on her husband’s family farm. Not quite the 3-bedroom house they were accustomed to. A final insurance settlement is almost completed. “Please God not another day of delay for them and give them wisdom on the best ways to spend these provisions.” My other daughter who fought and beat breast cancer in her early 30’s still struggles with brain fog after treatments. “Please God, clear her thoughts to see the next steps to take and the fortitude to walk those steps.” My son, who struggles with mental health challenges, like so many of us do. “Please God bring clarity and assurance of Your love for him. and each of us”

Take a walk in your neighborhood gardens and snap some green beans with your grandma today. I guarantee you will feel better.

Sweet Berry Kisses

Off to the blueberry bushes and blackberry brambles I am sent,

into the strawberry patch squishing overripe berries between my toes.

A painter’s palette smeared like rouge onto my cheeks

and all phalanges match my berry-stained face, lips, and tongue.

These delicious delectables satisfy my tummy’s rumbles

while the morning’s sun seals the sweet berry kisses to my lips.

Picking berries, berries, and more berries is my morning chore,

so, most make their way into Auntie’s heavy handled shiny bucket.

Pies, crisps, cobblers, buckles, and biscuits smothered with berry jams,

these Auntie anticipations as she twiddles her thumbs awaiting.

Down the garden path Auntie comes with a rabbit behind and bees a buzzing,

to lend a hand at picking plump berries into her long-handled metal pan.

Before noon into her kitchen baking oozing, finger-licking berry hand pies;

Oh, these juicy jewels create the sweetest berry kisses to my lips.

Anna Gall

May 4, 2024

Jul7

Summer Weekend Rest

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Summer Weekend Rest

We are blessed to have all our children, grandchildren, and one surviving parent living in our home state, Missouri. Travel for visits with them are frequent. We had my sister in town for a week in June. The Kansas City family was in town last weekend, so some local outings were ensued and enjoyed. We spent a Sunday afternoon in Farmington to take my youngest grandson, Eli and his buddy out for lunch. We met our newest granddog, Tillie, a stray puppy with the most gorgeous blue eyes that wandered onto the farm. This week was my granddaughter, Libby’s 20th birthday, Dean and I’s14th wedding anniversary, and the 4th of July, and we chose to stay in our hometown except for yesterday. We ventured out to our favorite neighboring river towns of Hermann and Washington, MO. The recent summer rains and storms have the Missouri River up and over the banks in some places. Tributary creeks are swelling into the fields and yards as well. Some holiday activities were cancelled because of the flooding, but less fires started with fireworks. Cabooses and train stations became our entertainment.

These weekends while Dean and I are at home, we are able to get some chores done. Dean’s parent’s home sold last month, so no more emptying cabinets, drawers, purging, and throwing away. Now we sort through the treasured items Dean brought home as mementos of his childhood and heritage. He built a shelf in the basement to organize these items. The Japanese stemware his father brought home while serving in the Army will be placed in our China hutch. We added a handsome wood bench to our living room. A worktable for planting and building projects sets under the carport as well as an old tool cabinet.

Yes, somewhere in between chores, rest and relaxation have been included in our weekends. With summer travels at a minimal, it is possible. For myself, writing is relaxing. Just about every weekday afternoon after cooking for the local seniors, I get a short nap, then write until dinner needs to get started. Some evenings and weekends include writing as well. My first book, a memoir of recipes, short stories, and poems has been my primary focus these past few months. I am just about finished with it after three years of plugging away. I promise myself, one last recipe, one last short story, and then the photos. Writing can be an addiction. Dean is my first reader, then I will ask a couple of others before going to a professional editor. The publisher and the printer are to follow. I will let you know when my first book is available.