Category Archives: author

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.

Before The Summer Solstice

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Before The Summer Solstice

The travels this late spring have been beautiful. We took several trips back to the Kansas City side of the state to get Dean’s parent’s house emptied before putting the house on the real estate market. The sunrises on Lake Wood as well as the sunsets were magnificent while on the road. The barns’ silhouettes and contrasting green landscapes vivid. Walks in our hometown of St. Charles and also while in the state of Tennessee for a partial week gave Dean and I admiring glimpses of gardens and art. A creative world we live in, cause to ponder a bit between the busy activities. Author Julie Cameron calls these types of walks “artist dates”. According to her, we should take these once a week for at least an hour or two. What sort of artist dates do you take?

May flew by, and June is proving similar. Cleaning and yard projects at the cottage as well as at Dean’s parents’ home took all of May. In June a sales contract written with a closing date before the end of the month, attending the Clarksville Writers’ Conference in Tennessee where I made a handmade book, an afternoon of Nashville music at the Ryman, the airshow at Spirit of St. Louis Airport with some excitable grandsons, the engagement party of my oldest granddaughter Hannah and her fiancé Jay, a week with my sister and visiting other family members and friends while she is in town, all this before the summer solstice. Wonder what the summer season will bring? I know a few more projects, but maybe some rest, relaxation, and healing for my body while we stay home for a few weeks. Home. I love the sound of that word.

On top of the busy activities, I have had medical appointments, tests, and now physical therapy. My world has literally been spinning since April. I woke up the morning of April 30 with a case of vertigo. Dizziness, nausea, migraines, and confusion comes and goes since then. Last week’s MRI shows a benign cyst on my right maxillary sinus, probably what caused those sinus infections from February through April, and the migraines since May. Vestibular physical therapy started yesterday. No fun, but hopeful this PT will help. Waiting to hear from the doctor about treatment for the sinus cyst. Hanging my worries out to dry. Please come Lord Jesus and take care of all of them.

March Welcomes Spring

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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

The Countryside and Sycamores

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The Countryside and Sycamores

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

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

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

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

Sycamores

Scattered hills breathe sadness.

Sadness as they overlook the valleys.

Valleys of withering grasses and emptiness.

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

Sycamores with peeling, white-painted bark.

Bark that seems to come apart at the seams.

Seams covered with crimson red sumac vine.

Vines that kept those years together.

Together during the bitter and sweet seasons.

Seasons are many that fill our lives.

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

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

Promises made with good intentions.

Intentions distracted with stressors and others’ disregard.

Disregards are many by hurting or hurtful people.

People everywhere breathe sadness.

Sadness dissipates as they look up to the Heavens.

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

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

Sycamores that still stand alone near the scattered hills.

Surroundings

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Surroundings

Who do you surround yourself with? I hope with folks that encourage you to do better and still accept you when you are far from your best. I chose to surround myself with a wonderful man, family, friends, and mentors. People who reaffirm “I am enough.” Dean and I love each other’s company no matter where we are at, four or five hours in the vehicle on a road trip. We take in the scenery, silence, listen to music, and talk from time to time. Simply, home is where he is. I think he feels the same about me. This spring we have taken some long weekends relishing the spring greens and blooms. One weekend by ourselves, another included friends, and this last one included mentors and family. I met one of my culinary and literary heroes this past weekend. Dean and I drove to Eureka Springs, AR for The Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow’s Poetluck event. I have been following Crescent Dragonwagon for over 25 years in books, magazines and online. She has authored over 50 cookbooks and children’s books as well as donated the Dairy Hollow House for this non-profit group as a base to encourage the written and spoken word. There at the WCDH Crescent and others welcomed every new and old face. It felt good to be recognized now that I have been coming to the writers’ group for almost 2 years. What a feeling of belonging while with my fellow writers.

“I wanted to appreciate the moments of my life more fully; I wanted to get out of my head and into my life; I wanted to deepen my knowledge of the world, of other people—and of myself.” ~ Gretchen Rubin

What do you surround yourself with? Beauty. Love. Words. Life. “Magic Pools” as Margaret Tarrant’s painting depicts those swirls of infinite dreams, some coming alive, others still being stirred up inside. Dean and I still dream and talk about a house a little bigger than our current cottage house. A home with enough space to welcome visiting guests and our hobbies. Adjoining are a small greenhouse and studio/workshop to create in. Most likely situated on the edge of town in a different Missouri county. See where God leads us as Dean’s retirement approaches. Meantime, we gather glimpses of the past through research, museums, and antique shops to know where we came from. We live in the present moment with loving relationships, positive affirmations, the Word of God, and meaningful activities that fill our days. We share the joys and sorrows of our loved ones. We watch and listen to a pair of robin birds care for their little ones literally outside our front door. We plant flowers, herbs, and greens in planters because we believe in the future. Surround sounds, touches, smells, tastes, and sights as Gretchen Rubin explains in her newest book Life In Five Senses. Today, every day live life fully present. Tomorrow will take care of itself.

A Different January, And Now February

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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.

Cottage Projects And Purposes

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Dean and I have been living in this WWII era small home in historic St. Charles, Missouri for just under 2 years.  It is Dean’s dream home, and becoming mine. Deanna’s Cottage is the name we give this home.  In 2019 the cottage had been rented out via Airbnb for 7 festival weekends.  It has such an ideal location, just 6 blocks from Historic Main Street. Each of our cottage guests have rated our little place 5-stars.  Thus far this year, the pandemic has kept us from renting Deanna’s Cottage.  It will be the second half of 2020 before we will accept reservations again on Airbnb, provided the threat of COVID-19 has subsided significantly.  Those weekends when the guests come stay at Deanna’s Cottage, we stay at our previous residence.  Our old house is rented to my daughter and son-in-law, a family of four.  There is our old bedroom we invade for 2 nights at a time with our feline friend, Celine who has taken permanent residence there.

With the social distancing for 6 weeks now in the state of Missouri, we have more time on our hands. We would rather be visiting with our kids, grandkids, parents, siblings, and friends on the weekends.  Sure understand why, and respect the rules set in order for this invasive virus to die down, but it is hard not to be with everyone.  Our two youngest grandkids have April birthdays.  We left the fixings for a birthday party on the porch and did a drive-by birthday greeting for the 10-year grandson earlier this month.  But our 4-year granddaughter will not understand why Grandpa and Grandma cannot stop to visit.  So birthday presents were sent in the mail to the other side of Missouri for our granddaughter to open on her birthday this Sunday.  May be able a Facetime event.

So what else to do with all this time, especially on the weekends?  We gained 2 hours every weekday with telecommuting, and little prep for work.  So one project after another runs in Dean and I’s heads separately and collectively with conversations and plans to follow.  We have plans to take out the carpeting in the living room, hallway, and master bedroom to get to the bare wooden floors.  We are not sure what we will find, so we have put that off for awhile.  We think it will take old-fashion time and elbow-grease with refinishing the floors.  And what to do with the furniture while we work on it?  With the lovely spring weather, outdoor projects have taken priority.  Off and on since last autumn Dean has worked on the windows, scrapping, glazing, priming, and painting.  That project is weather dependent. The awning over the front porch needs repainting.  The back awnings just need to be removed.  The back porch/deck needs to be replaced.  Fencing replaced, too.  And then there is the landscaping.  This includes a huge tree removal, resetting a small retention wall on one side of the house, and putting in a pebble patio in the front with a small fountain.  I love this project as it means a lawn chair to sit in at the end of a long day to relax under the dogwood tree sipping on iced tea or a cup of hot tea.  The weather temperature tells me which.

I have many longer-term plans in my mind for Deanna’s Cottage.  Did you ever hear of the book A Place Of My Own: The Architecture Of Daydreams by healthy food activist and author, Michael Pollan?  He dreams of a small structure, then he builds it himself, and uses as his writing studio.  A quiet space, purposeful place.  I found this cute place online used as a small venue for parties, showers, rehearsal dinner, and luncheons.  I could see Deanna’s Cottage used as a small gathering place such as this.  I can also see a quainter dwelling, maybe about 500 square-foot to be built in the big back yard within the next 5 years used as an atelier for reading, writing and art projects, but also for periodic guests and gatherings.  My flower, herb, and vegetable gardens surrounding the dwelling. But what does God purpose for Dean and I at Deanna’s Cottage, and this smaller structure I dream about?

 

Feathery Life

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My mother and I went to the movies this afternoon.  The young man scanning our purchased tickets was quite friendly, shared what day it was. National Margarita Day and Sweet Potato Day!  He subscribes to the DailyHolidayBlog and says everyday is a holiday and celebration.  The movie we saw said the same.  We viewed the new movie version of Little Women, Louisa M Alcott’s book. What a wonderful movie.  A reminder of the simpler things in life.   “The power of finding beauty in the humblest things makes home happy and life lovely,” Louisa M Alcott shared in one of her books. I love that era when this book was written, the late 1800’s as well as into early 1900’s.  The photo with the mother holding the baby is my grandmother with her firstborn, my father taken in 1936 at the former farm and estate of a prominent businessman in the St. Louis area where my grandfather worked.

So Bonnie Raitt and Stevie Nicks tunes played while I prepared dinner this evening at Deanna’s Cottage.  I had the fixins for cranberry mimosas, not margaritas in the house.  No sweet potatoes either, but made an egg casserole.  I played around with my new craft supplies.  I bought a couple of 75% discounted journals to embellish with collage art.  Repurposed items will be used.  This will be another creative outlet for me using words, color, and textures to express my heart.  Feathery words and designs plague my mind all the time.  Paisley prints and feathers swirl in my head while birds sing and nests perch on branches of leaves.  I will share my new art form with friends and family and post photos on this blog as I come along in the collage crafting.  Look for a new page coming soon.

 

New Year’s Day And Occupation in 2020

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New Year’s Day it is!  Morning is trying to wake up this first day of 2020.  Slow, or it seems.  A cup of hot chocolate and whipped cream awaken all my senses, warm me along with my Life Is Good long-sleeve t-shirt and leggings.  I cannot sleep this weekday holiday.  I awoke at 4:30am like it was a work day.  The sun finally peers above the two-story houses across the street while sitting in our small cottage’s living room.  My blogging urge comes.  Reflection of 2019 was last night before I fell asleep on the couch.  This morning it is looking forward.

What is to be my occupation in 2020 beside getting through this predicted long winter?  Last week I came across this Sinclair Lewis quote, “Winter is not a season, it’s an occupation.”  For those who live in the cold regions, or have cold-induced angioedema like myself, this rings true.  Reading, researching, journaling, writing, blogging, bookkeeping, and filing will be my occupation the next 3 months before the growing season.  I may work on a jigsaw puzzle for a change.  Maybe this mindless occupation will bring clarity and direction.  All are warm indoor activities.

Dean and I are looking to our retirement years, how soon is the big question.  I have exhausted my energy and drive at my government job.  Too many politics and bosses to please, and why?  I just want to focus on the holistic well-being of those people God has or will place in my life, my purpose in living.  I will retire this autumn, with plans to find more enjoyable employment using my organizational skills for another 10 years, retire fully at age 70.  My thoughts are I will probably use my human resources management, non-profit, and/or hospitality experiences in a combination of occupations.  Desired is a Masters in Creative Non-Fiction Writing at my alma mater, Lindenwood University.  This can be obtained with classroom or online courses.  There is a 50% discount for students age 60 or over. My 60th comes in August.

The other question is whether to move south to at least a little warmer area after my retirement, and how far south to reside.  Dean and I love our home state of Missouri, lived here all our lives.  Maybe southern Missouri, Arkansas, Kentucky, Tennessee, or Texas will be where we will find our new home, in a less populated area?  We are reading about and visiting various locations in 2020.  My current read is the The Body Keeps Score, authored by world-renown Bessel Van der Kolk, MD.  This book addresses the physical and psychological aspects of trauma.  This is helping me understand my own past trauma and the trauma of others as well as the hope of healing.  The book I started writing this past summer has come to a halt while I work through this healing.  With our travels, I hope to occupy a writer’s retreat in the spring to continue this work.

What direction are you going in 2020 and into this decade?  What will occupy your time and energy?  Are you living your life with purpose?  I ask for God’s light to guide you.

Garden Remedies

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I love the life and sustainability that an organic garden brings.  Health, wellness, goodness, and beauty prevail!  As the autumn mornings get crisper,  my herbs and tomatoes still produce.  My garden plants will thrive until old man frost appears.  Deanna Greens and Garden Art has been existence for over 7 years now.  Some of Dean and I’s dreams have come true.  The love of the earth and gardening came alive in me.  “It takes some presumption to cut into the earth and to reshape and redefine – to alter the natural course of things, to commit to having planted a seed, to start a path with no idea, really, where it will lead,” writes Dominique Browning.  More dreams opened up.  This author continues “Gardening has to be as much about contemplation as it is about tilling and toiling.  Mental toiling, perhaps…turning things over, quietly thinking, in a place that gives you a peaceful corner for just a moment or two.”  Gardening has brought a peace to my heart.  And “It dawned on me:  I had tended that garden in great, lavish, loving strokes. It had given me quiet, steady, demanding, and undemanding seasons of pleasure.  I took care of the garden, then the garden took care of me.” ~ Dominique Browning. 

My garden has taken care of heart matters as well as health matters.  I received the most interesting report from my eye physician this week.  He said he could tell I eat lots of green, leafy veggies by the photo taken of the inside of my eyes.  Doc says my peepers are in excellent health, just the lens are getting older with age.  A stronger lens for my glasses are ordered.  According to https://yoursightmatters.com/greens-such-as-kale-good-for-eyesight/ Greenleafy vegetables, such as kale and spinach, are good for eyesight and preventing age-related eye diseases, including cataracts and macular degeneration. Greens contain cartenoids such as lutein and zeaxanthin, which promote vision and the health of the retina.”  Whatever I do not grow, I buy organic wherever able.  Just eating as much leafy greens and veggies as possible, which means adding to the smoothies and omelets, using veggie-based pasta and riced cauliflower, and spooning fresh and dried herbs into my recipes.  Yes, my garden sustains me.