Category Archives: winter

Jan19

The Mid-January Landscape

Posted on by
Standard
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

Jan2

Sow A Seed in 2025

Posted on by
Standard
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

Nov19

November’s Remnants

Posted on by
Standard
November’s Remnants

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

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

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

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

Mar3

March Welcomes Spring

Posted on by
Standard
March Welcomes Spring

“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.” ~ Charles Dickens

Our road trip to the Southeast couldn’t come fast enough. It has been a very long, cold winter. I had been sick from my severe allergy to the cold, sinusitis, and bronchitis for almost 7 weeks, the longest time period that I ever remember even when I was a child. Winter wouldn’t stay behind as we crossed the Appalachians with sleety stuff hitting the windshield. A few short hours, we finally greeted Spring at the South Carolina coast. Along the way we saw fields of various shades of green and clumps of those yellow daffodils and jonquils, the tell-tell sign of the seasons changing.

There is something about when the daffodils bloom. Spring comes and goes with the wind but finally stays awhile. Welcomed sounds and sights all around. The lace curtains flutter with the open window and whistling spring air. Chirping, preening, and nesting birds. Bird eggs laid and baby chicks hatched. The rabbits nibbling on the wild violets and pansies. Clusters of colorful tulips are showy in vases and planters. It seems the whole world celebrates Spring. A renewal of spirit, health, and life. My good health has returned with the new season.

“A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer, it sings. because it has a song.” ~ Maya Angelou

So different are the birds. The coastal ibis, terns, gulls, and herons are shaped to skim the waters for their food. The songbirds are created to sing their songs, maybe attract a mate. Birds of prey are equipped with talons and large, sharp beaks. Their eyes can see yards ahead and the perimeter of their surroundings. God didn’t spare any detail when He created each species. As the birds, the uniqueness of each flower is evident. Beautiful colors and shapes, blooming at different times and environments within the growing season. Some flowers can be dried and preserved, but there is a specialness of the fresh bloom.

Walking the beaches and pathways I am reminded how unique each species God has created. And each has its place in this world. Author Marianne Williamson captured this, “A tulip doesn’t strive to impress anyone. It doesn’t struggle to be different than a rose. It doesn’t have to. It is different. And there’s room in the garden for every flower.”  While visiting area museums, my husband and I learned much about the history and culture of the South, the Gullah people, slavery, the Civil War, and the Native Americans. Their tenacity, resilience, and adaptations speak even today. While in our own uniqueness, there is room in the garden for each of us.

“Be yourself. Everybody else is taken.” ~ Oscar Wilde

Feb4

In All The Details

Posted on by
Standard
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

Jan13

Winter Retreat

Posted on by
Standard
Winter Retreat

Yesterday an arctic blast came through Missouri leaving a blanket of snow, ice, and high winds with ungodly temperatures. It appears most of the Midwest and eastern states are experiencing the winter storm. More wintry stuff to come. My severe allergy to the cold is a challenge, but I make the most of the time indoors on these kinds of days. What is the best thing about hibernating? Staying in the warmth of home, snuggling with my sweetie, sipping on hot tea, and eating comfort foods. Warm creamy oatmeal with apples and craisins for breakfast. Then Missouri made apple-cheddar cheese, crackers, red grapes, and small glass of an Italian Moscato for lunch. Homemade Italian Stone Soup and garlic bread is on the dinner menu. 

Outside our icy windows the finches and sparrows are having their feeding frenzies at the feeders. Suets blocks were put out ahead of the storm anticipating our feathered friends would need the extra energy to stay warm. The heater in the bird bath is working as there is some flowing water even in the single-digit wind chills today. Plenty of perches and bushes for the birds. No movie or concert beats the entertainment of the outdoor aviary dining room. 

But of course, reading and writing is a delight during these winter retreats. English poet, Edith Sitwell captured winter in these words, “Winter is a time for comfort, good food and warmth … it is the time for home.” I am having a winter reprieve from the busyness of everyday life at Deanna’s Cottage, home to Dean and me. I may get some household chores like laundry and cleaning finished this weekend. A big maybe. What are you occupied with this wintry day? I hope you are snug warm or least will get there after a good sled ride down the neighborhood snowy hill.

Dec26

Grace To Begin Again

Posted on by
Standard
Grace To Begin Again

“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


Dec19

December Again

Posted on by
Standard
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~
Sep23

An Almanac Autumn’s Arrival

Posted on by
Standard
An Almanac Autumn’s Arrival

Autumn comes in with a cool morning and the promise of warmth by noon with the full sun. A London Fog tea latte is calling my name. The leaves are turning golden with oranges and amber peeking through already. I am reminded of the abundance of autumn with berries plump, zucchini and yellow squash almost the size of a toddler’s leg, and the many varieties of tomatoes overflow the gardens and baskets. I read this poem many years ago and always enjoy reading it again every September …

Blackberry Eating by Galway Kinnell
I love to go out in late September
among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries
to eat blackberries for breakfast,
the stalks very prickly, a penalty
they earn for knowing the black art
of blackberry-making; and as I stand among them
lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries
fall almost unbidden to my tongue,
as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words
like strengths or squinched,
many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps,
which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well
in the silent, startled, icy, black language
of blackberry — eating in late September.

The other fruit to take notice of this autumn is the persimmon. The Old Farmer’s Almanac isn’t predicting a terribly cold autumn for the Midwest, but what about winter? The persimmon seeds are supposed to tell us what kind of winter we are to have. Look for the persimmons to be ripe soon in your area, if not already. Missouri is to have a spoon winter. According to this article with the Old Farmer’s Almanac here is how to predict weather with a persimmon seed:

1. Find a locally-grown persimmon. (A locally-grown persimmon is necessary because it will reflect local conditions!) Wait to pick the fruit or cut into the fruit until after it gets a bit soft—almost mushy.

2. Open the fruit and cut open a persimmon seed. 

3. Look at the shape of the kernel inside:

  • If the kernel is spoon-shaped, expect plenty of snow to shovel.
  • If it is fork-shaped, plan on a mild winter with powdery, light snow.
  • If the kernel is knife-shaped, expect frigid winds that will “cut” like a blade.

I hope you enjoy your autumn and all it entails in your part of the world. It will prepare us for the next season, the winter whatever that may bring. There is a season for everything …

“There is a season (a time appointed) for everything and a time for every delight and event or purpose under heaven—” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1

Feb10

A Different January, And Now February

Posted on by
Standard
A Different January, And Now February

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.”

~ Cindy Marten.