Category Archives: attitude & action

Feb4

In All The Details

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In All The Details

We have been staying indoors the majority of these winter days. It has been either bitter cold or a damp cold most days. Dean and I both have been under the weather. Dean fought bronchitis and strep throat. I have had a month of a sinus infection and hoarseness of my voice, on 2 rounds of antibiotics with a steroid added this week to take care of the inflammation and excessive drainage. This is my body’s allergic reaction to the subzero and single-digit temperatures even if out in it for 2 minutes to get to my preheated car. Yes, Dean warms my car every weekday morning, before I drive for 8 minutes to senior center so I can prepare lunch for the area seniors and disabled. The groundhog didn’t see his shadow, so he promises an early Spring. I surely hope Phil is right; otherwise, this leap year February will be an extra-long month for multi reasons. This morning, I write from the inside my in-law’s lakeside home in Lee’s Summit, Missouri. The lingering rain clouds cast a mist on the bare landscape. No sunrise to view other than the black becoming various shades of gray with a tinge of blue. The Canadian geese “honk-honk” greetings have not happened yet this morning. 

Dean’s family packs and purges items from this 50-year residence. We will empty its contents in hopes in sell the lakeside house by summer. After dividing up the heirloom pieces, maybe an estate sale before it is all said and done. Already have a willing buyer approach us yesterday. This house is one big dossier, collections of papers, documents, and photos. The stories we could tell from these piles of overseas love letters written while our father served, bank statements, grocery lists, receipts, advertisements, books, keys, keys, and more keys. They kept everything! We sort through to decide what is pertinent and what is junk. The photos are priceless, but so many! Many have years marked on them, and some without names. In all the details, we hope that the important matters like faith, love, and people were indeed their focus, and for the generations they leave behind also be our focus today. 

This month of February is the month for love. Not just romantic love, but God’s love for humankind. How can we share the love God freely gave us with the person we meet today? I pray a shower of God’s love comes down on you this month, one that warms your heart. Dean and I will end this month on the warmer southeastern coastline for a much-needed reprieve. Until then, keep sharing God’s creative love. I will be, too.

“In the winter she curls up around a good book and dreams away the cold.”  ~ Ben Aaronovitch

Dec19

December Again

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December Again

In the busyness of the holiday season, it is good to quiet oneself for a few minutes. Stop, sit awhile with no television, electronic devices, or music playing. Breathe in deeply, listen to your heartbeat, exhale slowly. Stillness, bareness, nullity, humbleness. Oh, but I hear a mourning dove tweet outside the window while near the feeders. Excited for seeds found and water flowing from the heated fountain. A blessing to hear the bird. In my previous hustle and bustle, I missed hearing my feathered friends outside my front window. Back to deep breathing and exhaling slowly. I hear the quiet, still voice of our God. The Spirit of God surrounds me, dwells in me. Slowing down is good, even for a few minutes. All is calm and bright. The winter solstice is welcome to come again.

“Each year is a parable begun in stillness, and chill, of bare ground warmed with spring life returning, then bursting, buzzing, peaking in summer, and issuing a final flare in autumn, to subside in another winter’s seeming nullity.”

~ Stephanie Mills, Epicurean Simplicity

I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.
‘We are nearer to Spring
Than we were in September,’
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.

~ Oliver Herford~
Nov20

Grace Found In The Ozarks

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Grace Found In The Ozarks

“The beauty of the trees, the softness of the air, the fragrance of the grass … the summit of the mountain, the thunder of the sky … the trail of the sun, and the life that never goes away, they speak to me, and my heart soars.”

~ Chief Dan George

Dean and I got away this weekend. While in route to a countryside Ozark destination we talk on the telephone with our son and 7-year-old granddaughter. She asked, “getting away from what?” Good question. The answer is “everyday life”. Do you ever need a reset button? Take a couple of days away from your own four-walls and neighborhood. Just the drive southward I felt like a load taken off my back and feet. Being in new scenery did wonders. Cobwebs are cleared out of the brain. Breathing fresh air instead of the stifling stagnate vapors. Sleeping is allowed with no schedule to keep. The body is rested. Hot beverages sipped while conversations are simple and sweet. Kissing is easier, intimacy is reveled. Listening to poetic words shared in a quaint setting is like a snug quilt. The writing pen flows as the wind does. God’s grace was given these autumn days in the Ozarks.

"Yes, God is more than ready to overwhelm you with every form of grace, so that you will have more than enough of everything —every moment and in every way. He will make you overflow with abundance in every good thing you do." 
~ 2 Corinthians 9:8 The Passion Translation

“Nature … is as much a part of my poetry as the alphabet.”
~ Phillip Howerton

A Patchwork Quilt

Patches come alive on the country drive with

nature’s many vignettes together making a lovely spread.

Colorful swatches pieced on the quilted landscape

with each border of trees and patch of farm telling its own story.

Each story preserved with reverence, holy and sacred

as You live out Your story, I admire Your beauty.

That gold thread worked throughout Your swatch

You cannot see while You work, fight, sit, and play.

The blends of brown and green match perfectly

to the red and golden patch found next door.

The rivers of blue flow to the rose-colored borders,

opens the gates to more stories on the horizon.

The purple haze dims your otherwise ocher perspective,

but from My view casts a mystic yet faithful cover.

My view is not pretentious from the heavens,

My batting is Your foundation, necessary for warmth and togetherness.

I am there with You stitch by stitch, the ins and outs of the needle.

Your doubts and whereabouts I know, I know You full well,

every flaw, tear, stain, and blemish combed in and out of Your fabric.

You are altogether lovely at a time such as this.

A patchwork quilt worth living the whole,

it’s pieced purposes for yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

Anna Marie Gall ~ November 19, 2023

Oct22

The Countryside and Sycamores

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The Countryside and Sycamores

On Saturday I left home mid-morning to travel about an hour north to Pike County. I had the inkling to enjoy autumn’s superb weather when I heard the weekend forecast. I could have perused the boutiques on historic Main Street or shopped until I dropped. But I wanted to be outdoors. Dean’s mother passed away on October 6 with her burial in St. Joseph, MO last weekend. At last week’s funeral, I reminded myself that it was time for a visit to my parents’ gravesite just outside of Bowling Green, MO. Both my parents and grandfather died during the month of October as well; 11 years, 9 years, and 3 years ago.

The countryside was beautiful, yet I felt a sadness for this occasion. The colors of the leaves and harvesting fields distracted me from my somber mood, but my purpose for this autumn drive was not missed. I took the scenic route following along the Mississippi River. I forgot about all those little towns with speed limits at 30mph. It was enough for me to slow down and refocus for the next leg until the next village. The river that author, Mark Twain wrote about is so wide in many places in Lincoln and Pike Counties. Between the trees I could see it sparkle like diamonds in the sunlight. Although, the many stand-alone sycamore trees caught my attention the most. Even the hillside cemetery had a sycamore.

I said a prayer, asked for forgiveness for some unkind words I recalled I said to my parents many years ago. Some memories were from childhood and others as an adult. Likewise, as memories flood my mind of unkind words my father and mother said to me, I forgive each of them. Those memories help explain my own behaviors as a person. No reason to repeat history with negative words. Simply, be kind to others.

On way back home, I stopped in Clarksville, MO to use the restroom and stretch my legs. I had hoped to grab a sandwich. Not many eateries to choose from, but a clean restroom was a must. A riverside bar & grill had patrons there. A dozen Harleys were parked outside along the curb. I am not a biker, but hoped they welcomed all. The restroom was clean, and the patrons enjoying their food and drink. I love a good grilled sandwich, so I stayed. While eating a delicious chicken club sandwich at the Clarksville, MO bar & grill, words flooded my thoughts, so I wrote them down. Here is the poem:

Sycamores

Scattered hills breathe sadness.

Sadness as they overlook the valleys.

Valleys of withering grasses and emptiness.

Emptiness except for the stand-alone, century old sycamores.

Sycamores with peeling, white-painted bark.

Bark that seems to come apart at the seams.

Seams covered with crimson red sumac vine.

Vines that kept those years together.

Together during the bitter and sweet seasons.

Seasons are many that fill our lives.

Lives interwoven with faith, hope, love, disappointment, grief.

Grief over ill health, blank dreams, and abandoned promises.

Promises made with good intentions.

Intentions distracted with stressors and others’ disregard.

Disregards are many by hurting or hurtful people.

People everywhere breathe sadness.

Sadness dissipates as they look up to the Heavens.

Heaven’s Divine nature made a canopy of colorful leaves.

Leaves are many of those stand-alone, century old sycamores.

Sycamores that still stand alone near the scattered hills.

Oct17

Bittersweet

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Bittersweet

While on a country drive in northern Missouri the day we buried Dean’s mother, we stopped along the roadside where a local man was selling bundles of bittersweet. We bought a small bundle to capture the colorful autumn season and this day. The past few days came in like a whirlwind leaving the mind with thoughts scattered like the autumn leaves, and the heart in such an array of emotions. Bittersweet are the days in October. The leaves weep that summer is gone like I have with saying goodbye to a parent yet another October. Like a young loon and its parent who has flown South without him. 

"I find it a little melancholy when I see parent and child this time of year.   The parent seems to have a 'far-off' look that betrays thoughts of soon leaving forever, the child she devoted her life ... Little does the child know that it will soon be fending for itself and will have to find its way south without mom's/dad's help." ~ Matt Huras

We returned home, and the hummingbirds have left Missouri to go South, too. With some parents leaving comes sooner than others. Like twice before there is an emptiness with the death of a parent, but with God’s grace, we will move on to our destination.

Aug29

The Older I Get

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Late summer vacation week this year. Dean and I brought with us my oldest daughter, son-in-law, and two of the grandchildren. We had an overnight stop in Nashville and made it to our destination in the North Carolina Appalachian Mountains early this evening. Breathtaking views at dusk and the air cool. Dean and I have been blessed to find comfort in nature’s beauty and seek those sweet spots for our vacations. Our first time in these parts of the Appalachians, and so happy to share this experience with some of the kids. The ripple effects of God’s blessings flowing through our lives I hope are felt by our children and grandchildren. It is my 63rd birthday today, and love to be celebrating it with my oldest this year. Grandchildren, Ella and Eli posed for this photo with me while in Nashville at the hotel.

A song Alan Jackson sings says how I feel about my 63rd birthday…

The older I get
The more I think
You only get a minute, better live while you’re in it
‘Cause it’s gone in a blink
And the older I get
The truer it is
It’s the people you love, not the money and stuff
That makes you rich

And if they found a fountain of youth
I wouldn’t drink a drop and that’s the truth
Funny how it feels I’m just getting to my best years yet

The older I get
The fewer friends I have
But you don’t need a lot when the ones that you got
Have always got your back
And the older I get
The better I am
At knowing when to give
And when to just not give a damn

And if they found a fountain of youth
I wouldn’t drink a drop and that’s the truth
Funny how it feels I’m just getting to my best years yet
The older I get

And I don’t mind all the lines
From all the times I’ve laughed and cried
Souvenirs and little signs of the life I’ve lived

The older I get
The longer I pray
I don’t know why, I guess that I’ve
Got more to say
And the older I get
The more thankful I feel
For the life I’ve had and all the life I’m living still

Songwriters: Adam Wright / Hailey Whitters / Sarah Turner

Aug20

Nostalgia

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Nostalgia

“Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind. Memories, sweetened through the ages just like wine…” Elvis Presley

The week started with watching the recorded Grand Ole Opry’s show with Vince Gill’s rendition of Ray Price’s “Danny Boy”. Now I love Vince Gill. And his version of this timeless classic was so sweet. But thoughts about the one-and-only singer, Ray Price continued throughout the week. On Friday while celebrating August birthdays at the senior center, the guest singer shared Ray Price’s song “For The Good Times”. Funny how a song can bring you back 50 or 60 years ago. I was brought back to the mid-1960’s watching my parents’ tender moment while they listened to Ray Price’s album playing on the turntable. I believe it was their favorite song.

As this memory lane week went Dean and I had planned to remove the dead refrigerator from our rental house’s garage. While loading the old frig Dean found in its insulation my Girl Scout membership card from 1968. This refrigerator was bought in the 1960’s by my parents. It was their primary refrigeration for a few years in my first childhood home and became the secondary cooler for soda and beer when we moved to the cedar ranch house built by my father on the tree farm. After my parents retired, the refrigerator followed them to their Pike County house, again stocking beverages in the basement. After Dad passed away, my mother moved into a villa in St. Peters. The 50+ year-old refrigerator needed a new home. It lived its last years in the garage of my St. Peters home once again as a beverage cooler. That Girl Scout card was another reminder of my childhood. Seems so long ago. It is long ago, but the memories so clear like it was yesterday.

The nostalgic week ends in the St. Peters house going through boxes of old papers. Some set aside for burning, others thrown away in the trash bin, and others boxed again. I stumbled upon several poems I wrote in the 1990’s. One poem melted my heart. It was about the teddy bear gifted to my oldest daughter, Rachel. As an expectant mother I had unwrapped it at the shower. The brown little fella sat in the baby nursery, came to the childbirth classes, and witnessed Rachel’s birth. The poem continued to talk about my other two babies. Those young motherly feelings were felt so vividly once again. What a beautiful week of nostalgia, sweet memories relived in my heart.

Jul23

July’s Gifts

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July’s Gifts

Steaming hot July weather has kept me inside most days and evenings. The AC units are getting a workout this summer. This month’s humid days have also brought some much-needed rain. My potted perennials, flowers, and herbs are drinking up the natural water and growing like gangbusters. The gigantic lemon basil plant provided adequately for my lemon-herb tea bread presented at The Essence of Lemon, Herbs, & Writing workshop held this weekend at Long Row Lavender Farm. For these I am thankful for, the summer warmth and rain.

The workshop had two components. First, I taught the guests how to maximize flavor for a lemon-herb tea bread using three ingredients: the zest of a lemon, the juice, and lemony-type herb such as lemon basil, lemon thyme, or lemon balm. Second, I taught how to write a black-out or block-out poem using a recipe, magazine article, or page from a book. The example I shared was the prize-winning Valentine poem I wrote to my Dean using words from the lemon-herb tea bread recipe. Poems’ words are concise, and the guests learned the process of picking out descriptive words from their selected article or recipe. One guest shared her poem eloquently written in honor of a young man who was recently killed an motorcycle accident. The words chosen came from a magazine article on different types of lavender. The words seemed appointed for her to write. It was a beautiful experience for her, the rest of the workshop guests, and me.

I am also thankful for the time given on a few afternoons this month to craft button journals made for the workshop guests, with one afternoon spent watching our 7-year-old granddaughter design her personal button journal. While she visited for a week, we made a special trip to Lincoln Land in Springfield, IL so Elise could learn more about her favorite president. She found a top hat like Lincoln’s, some special stickers to accessorize her journal as well as helped me find a jar of vintage buttons at the antique store. We made some fun visits with other family members while Elise was in town, but also spent time at our homey cottage watching and listening to the hummingbirds and songbirds, gathering withered leaves along our walks (and there were a lot due to the drought in June), and Papa Dean learned how to play Memory Match. Times with loved ones are treasured in our hearts. So thankful!

Jul4

Nature’s Own Spectacular Display

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Nature’s Own Spectacular Display

We have experienced nature’s own spectacular fireworks display with moving storms and heat lightening after sundown. Spotty storms and rain showers finally broke the early summer drought. Just as July arrived, the rains have created a steamy heat. Our greens are greener and the blooms are brighter. I wanted a red, white, and blue display in the front pebble patio for the 4th. How else, but with plants! I decided on red and white geraniums to fill our retired blue ceramic pot. Thankfully, one local greenhouse still had some geraniums to choose from.

Creative garden art ideas come to me every few days during the summer. I have two repurposed teapots set inside a wrought-iron heart-shaped basket with airplane plant shoots rooting in jars of water set inside the teapots. The one photo shows another way to repurpose old teapots planters, along an old outdoor stairway. Very old-world charm that I adore. Old-world charm yet love our new world freedoms.

“For you have been called to live in freedom . . . use your freedom to serve one another in love.” ~ Galatians 5:13

As we celebrate Independence Day, think about what freedoms we do have. We can freely worship where we desire. We can pursue the occupation(s) of our dreams whether a paid job or volunteering. Use our talents to serve others. That’s what they are intended for, right? We have freedom to education in the arts and sciences through books, study, and experiences. We have freedom of speech and written words. There is literature and online publications for about any and every subject a person has passion for. Our freedoms are paid for by our service men and women of today and yesterday. I am thankful to God for these people who have served and continue to serve us.

“Freedom has its life in the hearts, the actions, the spirit of men (and women), and so it must be daily earned and refreshed – else like a flower cut from its life-giving roots, it will wither and die.” ~ Dwight D Eisenhower

May26

Ready For A New Season

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Ready For A New Season

Celestially speaking, the Summer Solstice happens on June 21. But for many families, Memorial Day weekend marks the beginning of the summer season. All I know is the days are getting longer, enough to enjoy sunlight early morning and after dinnertime. Most of this May’s days have been mild enough to get a walk in the middle of the day. Those hotter days, it is better to get those steps in or piddle around in the yard early morning or in the evening. The sun on my skin is warm and the blowing late spring air cools. I think they refer these days as “resort days.” I am sleeping wonderfully sound every night when a good walk or gardening chores have been a part of my day. Stocked my beverage tray with some new herbal teas. A couple of weekend getaways early summer and a late summer trip to the Appalachians is planned with family. I want to keep my writing skills sharpened, so a 2-day writing conference in Tennessee takes place in June.

A welcomed new season is coming for a few folks. They have rounded a corner and are rising above. My oldest daughter and her family lost their house in a fire on Christmas Day. There have been so many prayers, tears, trials, and days of confrontations with their insurance company to get to this place today. They purchased a semi-permanent housing solution, a very large fifth-wheel RV and have it placed on my son’s-in-law family’s farm a few miles from their original home site. The hopes are more insurance settlement funds will allow them to build. No more motel living for them. They became instant minimalists and are essentially rebuilding their lives from the ground up. Most of their personal belongings were destroyed. Collectables such books and special houseplants are no longer, but an attempt will be made to replace them. Some selected few items were spared. The baby books were melded into a single mass, but my daughter was able to retrieve some relics on the inside of this mass. A heirloom rock collection from my parents were intact. Somehow the fire skipped over a box of photos. What was left of their house has been bulldozed down and hauled away. The lot is empty and will be sold. My daughter and son-in-law did not want to rebuild there, but desire to start anew near the same community due to relationships they have made over the past 12 years.

Next week I too am starting a new season in my life. I have been semi-retired for 2 years now. I have been employed with per diem part-time jobs but struggled with obtaining dependable hours. I even attempted to go back to full-time employment just so I could get some stability in hours, but it became too much on me. This new opportunity recently came across my online networks. I have been offered and accepted a part-time position for a non-profit group that provides meals and other services to seniors in the quad-county region. I love to cook from scratch and have the opportunity to use my culinary skills to serve the senior community. I will work weekday mornings only, and very close to home. The pay works for me, and it will help supplement for my disabled daughter’s medical care. I will continue teaching per diem culinary classes at the local community college at least one evening each month during the fall and spring semesters.

What does your Summer include? I hope some R & R, time with family and friends, a meandering road trip or two, nurturing a beautiful blooming plant or two or ten, a healthy dose of sunrays, a book to read, and an ice-cold beverage of choice each day.