“Somehow there’s always grace to begin again.” ~ Ann Voskamp.
This year 2023 has been a rough one. We left 2022 praying for miracles and depending on God’s gift of grace unending. If you may remember, my oldest daughter, Rachel and her family lost their home in a fire Christmas night of 2022. Many compassionate people rallied to provide and support them in their plight. The insurance company has been very slow, and partial settlement funds have come. They have made home with a trailer situated on my son-in-law’s parent’s St. Francois County ranch, living a minimalist lifestyle. The lot the burned house was on still needs to be sold. The family battles flashbacks and sleep deprivation since the fire. Please continue in prayers for Rachel, Mick, Hannah, Ella, and Eli. “The mind is a wonderful servant but a terrible master,” author Robin Sharma tells us. Other family news … Granddaughter, Hannah moved into her first apartment. My son, Ben moved to Springfield, MO this spring, and seems to enjoy being there. My Elisabeth and husband, Mark have taken quite a liking for insects, and have a few terrariums housing their new pets. Libby and Brendan are occupied with work and school. Dean’s youngest son, Rainer and wife, Erica had another son, Jeremiah on March 3 who joins 3-year-old Jefferson. It is a joy having them just 25 minutes away. Dean’s oldest son, AJ and family, Nancy, Elise, and CJ keep busy with work and school. Little CJ started preschool this year. Dean’s daughter, Liz and husband, Vince keep up with work and are wonderful helpmates for their families. Most work projects at our St. Charles cottage had been curtailed with our families’ immediate needs in 2023. I managed to keep alive some potted herbs, and successfully grew Mexican sage and eucalyptus this year. Back at it in 2024 for our cottage, our rental house, and Dean’s parents’ house.
Dean’s mother passed away in October. She had been battling ill health and leukemia for at least a year. We typically visit the Kansas City family every 4 – 6 weeks. But between September and November, we went back and forth to the KC side of the state nine out of ten weekends with her end-of-life details, funeral, and caring for Dean’s father. Dean’s father agreed to a premier assisted living apartment in STL, which has made it much easier for his sons to visit regularly. Besides coffee & tea stops in obscure towns and villages while going back and forth to Farmington and Lee’s Summit this year, weekend getaways by ourselves or with family or friends included Rolla, Charleston, and Branson, MO; Eureka Springs, Arkansas; Tennessee for the Clarksville Writer’s Conference in June; a day in Glasgow, MO; another day in Lincoln Land, IL; a week away to the beautiful North Carolina Appalachians and Nashville, TN; a flight and an overnight in Texas for Dean’s aunt’s funeral in October; and a holiday weekend in the Wisconsin Dells.
Dean still loves serving the researchers who come into the National Archives military record center. He has been with this government agency for over 15 years. Dean talks about “retirement” in 4-1/2 years, but I cannot see him stopping the beloved “hunt” with the research he loves doing. Good chance a small research gig will be in Dean’s future after retirement. Author Gretchen Rubin writes, “That’s my ideal life. Doing work worth doing.” I found regular weekday part-time employment worth doing. Since May I have been working as a culinary professional for a non-profit organization that serves the senior and disabled communities with meals-on-wheels and services. The earlier full-time job was too much for me between the lack of adequate training at the credit union and running on fumes from weekend trips back and forth to Farmington to assist my daughter after the fire. Early autumn, the community college built a new space for culinary classes. I was asked to consult on necessary equipment and space design for the “Studio Kitchen”, and this new space is where I facilitated two cookie baking classes this holiday season.
“Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work,” Thomas Edison is quoted. I continue to take opportunities to submit my poetry, short stories, and recipes to various online publications. Some of my writings are selected and published, plenty others denied. I participated in my first poetry reading in Eureka Springs, Arkansas early in 2023, and attended two other readings. In 2024 I will present a WCDH fundraiser workshop “The Essence of Lemon, Herbs, and Writing” on a date TBD. I facilitated this same workshop at a local lavender farm this past summer and loved the interaction of the participants. I joined a writers’ circle with some folks I met at the Clarksville conference. Every chance I have to be a part of the writing community, I take it. Huge strides have been made in a culinary themed book I am writing. “There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they’ll take you,” author Beatrix Potter said. More recipes, poems, and short stories keep being added. A labor of love. I didn’t know this introvert had that much to share with the world. Somedays I prefer solitude rather than talk to people. If I am quiet long enough, I can hear. “Sound is ephemeral…Sound is generative…Listening opens us to the wonders of communication and creativity,” shared keynote speaker David George Haskell at the Clarksville writers’ conference. I work things out with words in the quiet, writing them down and reading others’ words. Other days I need to have that meaningful conversation with a friend, family member, co-worker, or senior client. “Writers and artists work in the loneliest of all professions, inside our heads”, eMerge co-editor Charles Templeton wrote in a newsletter.
Fluffy pillows and comforters layered on a settee, piled reading books on the floor besides, and a cup of hot cocoa lathered with whipping cream atop … this is what I look forward to this winter which is predicted to be long and cold, the snow shovel kind according to the persimmon seeds. I will watch the snow and songbirds through the frosty windows while snug warm under blankets, listening to the quiet hush, occasional chirps, and let the words flow on paper. “Live from the abundant place that you are loved, and you won’t find yourself begging others for scraps of love,” Christian author, Lysa TerKeurst encourages us. Ann Voskamp reminds us, “Whatever rock and tender place the bruised soul finds itself between, it’s witness there right into the face of the rock we’re facing. There is no such thing as salvation by romance, or by achievement, or by dream life, or by any good behavior, or by itself or anyone else … No choice you or anyone else makes has the power to make you unchosen … What you want most deeply is to be deeply wanted as a person, valued and needed, seen and safe and known.” Simply, God the Father chose you, salvation is through the gift of Jesus alone, and nothing can separate you from the love of God. The Holy Spirit lives in you and me. I pray you know these truths, live them, and share them.
“Nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.” ~ Romans 8:38
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
“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.
The summer drives have revealed old-fashion multi-flora roses, Queen Anne’s lace, Indian paintbrush, coneflowers, clover, black-eye Susan’s, buttercups, straw flowers, lilies, and cattails along the country roadsides. The town blocks are lined with blooming hydrangeas, crepe myrtle, roses, Shasta daisies, lavender, and tiger lilies with pots of geraniums, petunias, lantana, bridal veil, impatiens, and culinary herbs besides. This week oregano and Italian basil dazzled my white pasta sauce and thyme, mint, marjoram, and lemon basil spiced up the brown rice dish. Meanwhile, lawn sprinklers water as the rains have been scarce in June. My aubade to this Midsummer …
My Aubade This Midsummer
The summer solstice is June twenty-one,
direct opposite of the Midnight sun.
At nine fifty-seven am central time this year,
an ephemeral moment in this celestial sphere.
A spectacular morning this Midsummer,
as swollen rain clouds promise like a redeemer.
The feathered friends’ frenzy at the birdfeeders,
nature’s behavior encourages this pleader.
Blooms and greens need raindrops ten thousand,
allowing all five senses to be arousing.
Especially in gardening, patience is a virtue.
The garden hose is out to water those plants, quite a few.
The flowers’ colors and fragrances are a seduction,
and those clouds escaped again without a production.
Too dry before July and August’s usual drought,
more prayers will surely open the heavens, rain showers to come about.
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.
The May weather has been gorgeous! Gardens and yards are popping with colors and textures. The lovely peonies and irises just opened this week. I have spent a few mediative minutes each day in my garden, planting, plucking dead foliage and blooms as well as watering. And of course, time to “cast my cares upon Him”. My mother’s favorite were purple petunias. I added some to one of my planters today to remember my mother this season. Our green perennials have perked up with the fresh sunlight, air, and rainwater. Our freshly potted herbs are thriving. This growing season we planted several varieties of mint, oregano, thyme, marjoram, sage, and basil. The basil is the lemon variety, and I hope to add that to my lemon tea bread recipe this summer. I will be hosting a workshop on the essence of lemon and herbs, sharing my lemon tea bread recipe, and how to write a block-out poem using a recipe. This will be held at a local farm. More information on the workshop is forthcoming.
Our resident fledgling robins made their way out of their nest over the weekend. We see Mama Robin flitting around at the edge of retaining wall and bushes between our house and the next-door neighbor church. Her little ones are under cover while they develop their wings and learn to feed themselves. The nest has been empty since Sunday. Robins will have another brood this season, so Dean and I thought to move the nest off our front door basket and fill the basket with something welcoming like a small ornamental birdhouse. But the nest was interwoven with the flowers, greenery, and moss basket. Dean found a huge piece of concrete to put in the nest. I searched for something a little less bulky. I found a couple of rocks at the dollar store, one says “love” and the other says “peace”. A clear message to Mama Robin to please find another place to lay your eggs and hatch your next brood. Plenty of trees and niches in our yard for Mama and Daddy Robin to build their next nest. We need our front door to be accessible. Peace and Love to all mothers, mothers in waiting, and those who love like a mama!
Nesty nature these spring days. In two weeks’ time a pair of robins have claimed the moss basket with fake flowers and the attached metal art “welcome” sign placed on the front door. The pair have made their nest and have laid two eggs in it so far. All this going on unknown to Dean and I until today. This discovery comes after a beautiful weekend of Easter egg hunts, goodie making, and a park side picnic amongst the green carpet and dainty purple blooms. I wasn’t on an egg hunt this morning. Dean said we shouldn’t move the nest at this time. Even after my discovery I spotted momma robin laying on her nest keeping the eggs warm. Those neighborhood critters, cats, hawks, and owls better stay away! What a lovely few weeks it is going to be as these eggs hatch into hatchlings, and then fledglings get onto their new life like those grandbabies! I will be on watch every chance I get.
“When robins appear, loved ones are near.” ~ British folklore
Faster than the speed of light, our electronic devices send information via texts, emails, photos, blogs, letters, invoices, payments, deposits, documents, and on and on … I literally cannot keep up with it all. The passwords alone are too numerous; none less learning all these new programs, two computer monitors with at least four programs opened on each at any given moment in my 8-hour day. And ten different ways to pay ten different invoices! Lickity-split like in the snap of the fingers I am supposed to know these details with no written instructions. My brain is fried. Frazzled and bewildered is how I feel most of the time since I started this job. Constant multi-tasking is not good for me or anyone from what I understand. My weekends have been much like the weekdays, just crammed packed. Change is inevitable.
I feel I am missing the seasonal signs; bright daffodils blooming, sprouts of green popping up, fruit trees budding, the busy finches and sparrows nesting, not fully appreciating the approaching Spring. Like a lightning bolt, family emergencies strike. I cannot respond in a way to meet the needs, due to either lack of time or exhaustion. Other people God appoints step up in my absence. “Home wasn’t built in a day … the days were long, but the years flew by”, Todd Tilghman sings. I don’t want to miss any of it. As we march on, February ended with another family emergency with Dean’s mother having a stroke. She was rushed to the hospital by ambulance, in a coma-like state for two days, but miraculously has come through. Marching on into March, she moved into rehab and will be in an assisted living facility very soon. The elder Galls have entered into a new season of their lives, needing special attention that a reputable assisted living facility can bring. As most stories end with a glimmer of hope, here comes baby Jeremiah Robert. He waited until the shifting stormy weather to be born, two days past his due date. Our ninth grandchild, another blondie baby Gall is perfectly made.
What happened to January? The bustling holiday season went into a busy January, and finally a weekend in mid-February set aside to slow down, stay home, read, and write. My blogging and writing curtailed with a new weekday office job, weekends in Farmington, cottage interior projects, and reorganizing. Dean and I last-minute traveled to Eureka Springs, AR to join in my first evening of readings with The Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow. I shared a couple of classics from Emily Dickinson and Christina Rossetti, and then a few of my own poems. I experienced the beatnik snapping fingers. Fun! One poetry submission went out in January. I may be able to get one or two submissions this weekend. My life changed its course starting in December. After working for 18 months with part-time jobs after my retirement from my HR position with the local government, I decided to seek a full-time job where I have dependable hours. I started this HR position just before Christmas. Much more to learn with this generalist role in a smaller organization. Thankful it has been a friendlier culture. I continue to teach a culinary class one or two evenings a month. Diligence and time management are all the more necessary to keep to my writing projects.
One day out of each weekend since Christmas have been helping my daughter, son-in-law, and grandkids who live in Farmington, MO. Their house burned down Christmas night. They escaped with no injuries, thank God! They have a long road to full recovery from this tremendous loss. Miracles after miracles have been witnessed. The other day of each weekend are filled with home projects. The cottage guest bedroom had a face lift on one wall. Dean put up bead board, carefully cutting to fit around the window frame. We will paint the bead board an off-white when the weather warms up this impending spring and the windows can stay open for a day. It really lightens up the room, mellowing the cranberry red wallpaper and keeps to the Edwardian country decor. While Dean worked on that, I have been paring down and reorganizing drawers, closets, and rooms. We did a couple of furniture swaps between bedrooms to simplify access. Now Valentine hearts along with seasonal snowmen and snowbirds dot the rooms with a festive fever. I put together various candy jars for the kids and my fellow HR co-workers. I thoroughly believe gifts of love expressed from the kitchen can be given to everyone you meet.
“There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.”
~ Linda Grayson
“At the end of the day, I believe you lead with your heart. This is all part of who I am, no matter where I am. My heart is my heart.”
Dean and I had a different kind of year in 2022. Odd ball weather, I suppose normal for Missouri. I observed more sundogs in the sky than I ever remember. The long winter made for quality time writing. I submitted short stories and poems to several different publications and continue to submit at least one writing every month. New writings with Flapper Press published this year, and more coming out in eMerge in 2023. We had funky shifting winds in the spring, and our first failed crop of greens. Must have been a bad batch of seeds and a few too hot days. There was a record 12″ rain one summer night causing major flash flooding in our area as well as two windows leaking in our cottage in St. Charles. Dean did some work on the cottage to prevent it from happening again, or at least we hope! We had a fairly pleasant autumn, but an early arctic blast just before Christmas, that made for a white one. Holiday celebrations were delayed due to those subzero temps, illnesses, and a fire disaster. I think the word “resilience” was used on a number of occasions this year.
Dean had struggled with sleep apnea for years, but it escalated to a serious case. It was greatly affecting his normal functions, so he finally sought his doctor about it. After several tests with a specialist, he uses a machine diligently every night now. He is sleeping much better, and so am I! Overall, I am doing well. Stress will get those PVCs going, but my heart is healthy. Arthritic days come and go. Between seasonal and per diem jobs not providing enough hours and income, this autumn I had decided to seek a new full-time HR job with dependable hours and good pay. I started this job with a local credit union a few days ago. The work culture is pro-actively positive. I will probably do this full-time stuff for another 5 years until I draw on my SS. I still teach per diem culinary evening classes at least once a month. Other family members struggle with health issues. Dean’s mother has been diagnosed with a type of leukemia and undergoing oral treatment. My Rachel continues with some painful days with the rare nerve disorder. Thankful an unexpected inheritance has been able to fund her medical care. Dean’s youngest, Rainer, who lives in the suburb of St. Louis now had an emergency appendectomy just before Christmas but is healing well. Overall, all the kids and grandkids are well. We will welcome another grandbaby in March. I continue to pray that ours and those of our loved ones’ body, mind, and spirit be whole.
We had our routine travels back to see the Kansas City family a few times, a February week away from Missouri’s winter driving to beautiful St. Augustine, FL. We stopped in Nashville, TN for our first Grand Ole Opry show. It had been on my bucket list of events for a while, and so happy to finally experience country music at its finest. We visited Dean’s brother and family in Chicagoland one weekend in August. We chose to wait for another week away for September rather than the hot summer. Went to Colorado to see the quaking aspens and mountains in Avon, Colorado area. Another bucket list experience I had for good many years. Visited family in the Denver area. Memphis bound for one night so we could see Vince Gill in concert. We enjoyed the Branson area twice, a couple of days in May with some of our friends, and another weekend in November on our way back from Eureka Springs, AR where we met up with my sister and her partner. I attended a writer’s workshop at the Writer’s Colony at Dairy Hollow. Also, had an unexpected trip to Mississippi in March. My younger brother, Steve suddenly passed away while he was on vacation there. My older brother, sister-in-law, Dean, and I met up with my sister there to make final arrangements.
“You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy.”
Psalm 30:11
This year of 2022 was full as many of our previous years. Full of lovely moments with family and friends, and ones that we also said “goodbye” to so many family members. I had two uncles, one aunt, a cousin, and my younger brother pass away, and Dean had an aunt the family said “goodbye” to. Filled with mixed emotions, sadness as well as thankfulness for their lives with us. In the very last hour of Christmas Day, my daughter, Rachel and her family Micky, Hannah, Ella, & Eli escaped a fire that totally destroyed their home in Farmington, MO. A complete loss. It is a miracle that none of them were killed or injured. One of their dogs, LILO passed away from smoke exhaustion while trying to herd the family out of the house. There is a place in heaven for her. A cat and pet frog are gone from this life, too. We rejoice for our children’s lives spared, and a long road to recovery is underway. We get to witness miracle after miracle of how God is providing for them through His people. So many community and church groups have rallied together on their behalf as well as friends and family giving of themselves, resources, and love to help. I truly believe good overpowers the bad through the grace and mercy of our God! In 2023 there will be some joyful dancing!
“He will give: beauty for ashes; joy instead of mourning; praise instead of heaviness. For God has planted them like strong and graceful oaks for His own glory.”
Deanna Greens and Garden Art 