Category Archives: critter

May10

Motherly Blessings

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Motherly Blessings

Motherly. Many of us carry motherly traits. We express them by baking cookies or berry crisp, making chocolate rose strawberries, brewing a cup of coffee, or steeping tea for those we love. We wipe the brow of a feverish head or kiss the bandaged knee after a fall on the sidewalk. We tuck in the child laying to rest for a nap or a favorite teddy bear situated on a bed. We sing a lullaby or write a poem. Comfort is conveyed. Those motherlike instincts come out in multiple ways. It is not just the women who are mothers, but also aunties, grandmothers, neighbors, men who are fathers, uncles, grandpas, or simply a kind soul that express this special care and love. It is the toddler mimicking their parent or grandparent in cradling their dolly, doggy, or kitten with a warm embrace. The birds, rabbits, and possums we share the earth with, they show their concern for their offspring and orphaned animals. I marvel at the care we have for other souls, humans and critters. Let us remember the downtrodden, forgotten souls within our reach. You don’t have to look far. Today, gift the mother figures in your life with your prayers, telephone calls, flowers, and trinkets that say “I love you”. Mother Mary, pray for us! Happy Mother’s Day!

Apr16

Life to the Soul

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Life to the Soul

Mother nature has a way of slowing life down, if attention is given to her. In the midst of busy days of culinary work, writing, and book events I stop to breathe and ponder the small creatures in my world. A small bird feeder sets outside my atelier window. As I word process today, the songbirds come savor the seedy suet. Sparrows, finches, and wrens alike share the provisions mostly without a fuss with each other. Last week we had a pair of Eastern bluebirds visit, my first time to witness this species at our in-town feeders. This past weekend while preparing for a book event, Dean found a swallowtail butterfly in our basement. We think a caterpillar morphed into this beautiful butterfly while housed on one of our perennials over the winter. Dean released it to the outdoors as the weather is warming up consistently each day. Our grandsons bring smiles to our faces and warm my soul with flowers. God’s handiwork is to be marveled. It really is the small things that bring life to the soul.

“But now ask the beasts and let them teach you; and the birds of the heavens and let them tell you. Or speak to the earth and let it teach you; and let the fish of the sea declare to you. Who among all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this, in whose hand is the life of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind?” ~ Job 12: 7 – 10

Feb5

A Conspiracy of Love

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A Conspiracy of Love

The month of February brings a plethora of events worthy of celebrations. Ground Hog Day, Valentine’s Day, President’s Day, and at least one if not five snow days that keep most of us home. Many experienced the snowstorm or ice storm of the millennium the end of January. Then this week the groundhog as well as the armadillo in Texas predicted six more weeks of winter because they each saw their own shadow, despite this little girl having an important message to Mr. Groundhog. Wow, if weather prediction could be that easy all the time. We tucker in our homes, sip on our hot tea and coffee, find great movies to watch, a pile of books setting on the end table for those evenings under a lamp and warm throw, as well as stocked pantries and refrigerators to bake bread, prepare homemade soups, and sweet goodies. What better time to make your sweetheart or neighbor their favorite dessert?

I am sharing a favorite sweet goodie amongst children and the children at heart. Below is a recipe for Stuffed French Toast Hearts found in Volume 2 of Strewn Words in the Stew: A Memoir of Recipes, Poems, Short Stories, and Sayings. Click on the book title to go to the page about my writing adventures and where you can purchase my books.

Stuffed French Toast Hearts

The ingredients are 24 slices buttermilk or sourdough bread; 6 ounces cream cheese, softened; 1/4 cup fruit preserves or jelly; 6 eggs; 1 cup milk; 2 teaspoons granulated sugar; 1 teaspoon vanilla or almond extract; 1/2 teaspoon salt; 1/4 cup butter

The instructions are:

  1. Using sharp large heart-shaped cookie cutter, but bread slices into hearts; set aside.
  2. In a medium bowl, combine cream cheese and preserves; beat until blended and creamy.
  3. Spread 1 tablespoon of the cream cheese mixture in center only of 12 heart-shaped bread slices.
  4. Top each slice with matching heart-shaped bread slice to make 12 sandwiches.
  5. In a large bowl, combine eggs, milk, sugar, extract, and salt; beat until blended and frothy, then set aside.
  6. Heat butter in a griddle or large skillet.
  7. Dip each sandwich in egg mixture, place in pan and grill on each side until golden brown.
  8. Sprinkle with powdered sugar before serving.

Makes 12 stuffed sandwiches.

“Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love.” ~ Hamilton Wright Mabie

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.

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

May5

Full-Swing Spring

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Full-Swing Spring

This spring the birds keep singing as the flowers keep blooming at a speed I can’t quite keep up with. Is it my age or did spring come lightning speed this year? The fruit trees and dogwoods have lost their petals weeks ago with the April showers and storms. It is the first week of May and some irises and peonies are already in full bloom. A hummingbird came flying by the last day of April. So, on May Day we welcomed hummingbirds with a filled feeder of sugar water Dean prepared. As spring is amping up, I thought to get my herbs and geraniums planted in pots for the front porch garden. A hard freeze is unlikely by now. I had to put off my gardening project for a few more days for other reasons.

“When one flower blooms, spring awakens everywhere.”~ John O’Donohue

By April 15 we had taxes paid, but I developed a backache that increased in sciatic pain until I could barely walk or sit. Only relief was lying flat on the bed with a heating pad and pillows to elevate my legs. A couple days off from work turned into 10 days. With x-rays, an MRI on my back and hips, and a visit to an orthopedic specialist, the conclusion is I have much arthritis in my back and joints, and two bulging discs. The vertigo returned from tossing and turning while dealing with the pain. A muscle relaxer, anti-inflammatory, physical therapy, and rest were prescribed. My employer didn’t accept my doctor’s note with limited physical activity, so I am now a substitute cook for all St. Charles County locations. I can accept or deny work as my body tells me. I cannot tell you when those bulging disc occurred. Apparently, I am not good at listening to my body. I am determined to be a better listener now and in the future. I have met some new people with this new season in my life, which has been fun.

I finally potted those herbs and geraniums. Tai basil, rosemary, and oregano in one pot. Common sage and pineapple sage in another. And finally, my beloved lemon thyme and English thyme live together in a pot. Ready for my upcoming workshops about baking with lemon-flavored herbs. More on those workshops later. The Italian basil was chewed on so badly that I put it in its own pot away from the other herbs. Whatever insect likes it can eat it to a stub, but please for the love of God, stay off my other herbs.

“I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden.” ~ Ruth Stout

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