Category Archives: Dean

Oct18

“Bid Adieu”

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“Bid Adieu”

“Farewell”. “So long”. “Goodbye”. The French say “bid adieu”. In so many words to say, “the hummingbirds went south”. I miss them being just outside my atelier window while I write. They have been gone for a few days. No chance of the hummingbird’s survival here in the winter as every year. Especially this upcoming winter as I hear we are getting incredible amounts of snow in the Midwest. The persimmons and willy worms tell us the same. I hope the hummingbirds survive the current and future tropical storms with their return to Missouri in April or May of next year. Our ferns, lantana, arrowhead plant, and herbs have done well this long summer. This weekend our perennials are back in the basement as some 30’s temperatures were forecasted the northern outskirts of the metro St. Louis region having frost. It is the first time I heard the “F” word being used by the meteorologists this season. A farewell to fair weather.

There are other “goodbyes” taking place these days. The amount of items Dean and I have collected over the years! Since mid-summer we have been giving away and purging for many weekends and hope to finalize before hard winter sets in. I know of two silent auction events this autumn to contribute to. We think vintage stuff is cool. And if we keep some of our stuff much longer, they will be vintage! Books, home decor, old picture frames, hardware, old paperwork. If not giving away to family, friends, or charity, then to the trash or burn pile will these items go. “Sai la vie” is the other French term. “Oh, well!” There is no sense in keeping everything. My hopes are our kids will appreciate these efforts later when Dean and I are gone.

“All goes back to the earth and so I do not desire pride of excess or power, but the contentment made by men who have had little: the fisherman’s silence receiving the river’s grace, the gardener’s musing on rows.” ~ Wendell Berry

I am moving onto a new job in these next few days. I will finish the month with my culinary work at the senior agency I have been with for 3-1/2 years. I started training with another food service company that assists the parochial school at our church parish. Our church is 3 blocks away from our St. Charles home. This is an answer to prayer regarding the wintertime commute dilemma for me with my medical conditions of rheumatoid arthritis and a severe allergy to the cold. I will work about the same number of hours and pay rate but with less food volume and younger clients. Change is good and I embrace this new opportunity with enthusiasm. I will miss some co-workers but have afternoons off to visit the St. Charles and St. Peters Senior Centers from time to time.

Farewell to iced tea and flip-flops for a few months. My herbs came indoors this week. I used the Genovese basil in caprese pasta again and have more to use up this week. Autumn goodies like hot tea, pie, kuchen, soups, and apples being used in various recipes are a part of the menu changes these days. I want to try making this apple butter recipe I found online. Festive weekend outings like a Poe play, the church picnic, and an overnight at a unique boutique hotel in a small Missouri town have given us relaxing fun between chores and jobs. Writing continues to keep me occupied while inside. Year-round, almost daily words invade my brain that necessitate me to write. More recipes, stories, and poems develop for my next book. “Bid adieu” to silence.

“Tell your story.

Shout it. Write it.

Whisper it if you have to. 

But tell it.

Some won’t understand it.

Some will outright reject it.

But many will

thank you for it.

And then the most

magical thing will happen.

One by one, voices will start

whispering, ‘Me, too.’

And your tribe will gather.

And you will never

feel alone again.” ~ L.R. Knost

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

Jul26

How My Garden Grows These Days

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For this growing season all my gardening is container gardening, and this has been Dean and I’s exclusive type of gardening for the past three growing seasons. July’s squelching heat has me watering my porch herbs every other day. Despite (or because of) the hot summer, the pineapple sage is humongous. I will repot this plant after the weather cools a bit. The plants suffer enough without going through transplant shock during this hot season. Snippets of herbs are added to my summer dishes and iced teas which bring refreshment to the taste buds.

From time to time, I get a request for more information about gardening. I had a marketing person from Refin real estate company ask for my input on patio gardens. Here is the Rent.com article written, some of the content are some tips I shared. Take a few minutes to read this article: https://www.rent.com/blog/balcony-herb-garden/. Personally, I would like to try again some lettuce greens and microgreens in some pots. It is too hot to sow seeds now, maybe early September. Definitely, I can try in next year’s growing season.

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

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.

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

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.

Sep26

This Month’s Preoccupations

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This Month’s Preoccupations

September is finishing up nicely. Cooler weather and rain after a few very hot days in the midst of a seven-week drought in our parts of Missouri. Some humid late afternoons led into early evenings bringing huge thunderheads, and spotty rain showers. In St. Charles they didn’t produce precipitation. Our trees, shrubs, and blooms were begging for some. We watered occasionally with the garden hose, and filled the birds’ fountain a few times these parched weeks. One Friday evening while the Main Street boutiques stayed open a couple of hours later, Dean and I did some early Christmas shopping. While out we captured the sun reflecting on a huge thunderhead, creating this beautiful orange sunset. Finally, much needed rain came the past two days.

September is a few weeks away from October’s first freeze, typically mid to late October. We start preparing for the planters of perennials and herbs to come indoors. Probably next weekend for the big move as the mid-40’s is predicted for the week after next. Our ferns and arrowhead plant won’t like those low temperatures. My potted herbs are sensitive to the cold air, especially my basils. I grew Genovese Italian and Tai basils this year. I clipped their blooms a couple of weeks ago to allow them to dry on a paper towel in my kitchen. Last evening I spent an hour extracting their tiny black seeds from the Italian variety. I will take on this tedious job with the Tai variety another evening next week. I enjoy the satisfaction of growing from my own plants’ seeds and cuttings. This autumn purple asters grace our front porch. They are a lovely contrast to the nifty turquoise door as well as the orange pumpkin and front door wreath. I have to read up on how to care for them. Asters look similar to mums though have ferny-type leaves that are attractive. I have not much luck with mums, so thought to try something different this fall.

This autumn season fabric pumpkins and pillows are all the rage for me. Dean is into Halloween doodads and widgets. A stop at the antique mall last weekend was successful with reasonably priced, handmade finds for both Dean and me. We had a fun evening at the Smartt Field hangar dance last Saturday. Dressed in tropical casual, with many others in period clothing and WWII uniforms. The band was led by my OB doctor when I was pregnant with my son 31 years ago. So nice to see he is still using his musical talents as well as still active in his practice in the community. Reminds me of someone else I know, using her technical and creative skills to serve her community. I am still at it in the kitchen of our community senior center as well as writing.

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 ..."