Someone New, Something Blue

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Someone New, Something Blue

Welcome great-grandson! River Martin Hulsey! Precious life! Congrats to Hannah and Jay!

Someone New, Something Blue (River’s Poem)

Someone new, something blue

came flowing into our lives.

Little River, darling River

you captured a million senses.

Hear the peep of our babe,

the coos, the gurgling noises, too.

Smell the freshness like dew,

in a blue blanket so soft, anew.

Taste your softness on our lips

the flutter of a butterfly kiss.

See your perfect hooked pinkie

today not too tiny and one day mighty.

Plentiful dark hairs capping

your perfectly handsome head.

Someone new, something blue

came flowing into our lives.

Little River, darling River

you captured a million senses.

Anna Marie Gall ~ April 2025

A Simpler Time

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A Simpler Time

“Blossom by blossom the spring begins.” ~ Algernon Charles Swinburne

Seatherny overcomes the gloomy spring day. The birds chirp despite the gray sky. My heart lightens like the cherry tree blossoms floating with the wind similar to snowflakes. The warmth of the sun and the songbirds remind me it is springtime. I focus on this present moment.

“As cherry blossoms bloom and fall, they whisper to us the wisdom of impermanence, urging us to live fully in the present moment.” ~ Unknown

“Take me back to simpler times when daisies spoke, clouds formed pictures and ladybugs were lucky, when an hour was timeless and everything was new. It’s all still there inside. In crazy times, it makes this dreamer’s heart happy to close my eyes and remember.” ~ Jody Doty

Too many cares from the previous week. Disease, devastation, disappointments, and even death have dominated my thoughts. Today’s Sunday drive to the countryside provides more pleasant present moments to remember for this coming week. The grass isn’t necessarily greener on the other side of the fence, but stepping out of the muck can shed a lighter point of view that doesn’t weigh down my mind and heart. I am ready for a fairytale tea party.

“She wore her yellow sun-bonnet, 

She wore her greenest gown, 

 She turned to the south wind  

And curtsied up and down. 

She turned to the sunlight

And shook her yellow head,

And whispered to her neighbour:

‘Winter is dead.’  ~A. A.Milne

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.

The Mid-January Landscape

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The Mid-January Landscape

“In winter … temporarily abandoned by my suddenly frigid lover, the garden.” ~ Margaret Roach 

I love my perennials, herbs, and flowers during the warm growing season. The dread of the winter months in Missouri has lessened as I have learned to love staying indoors, too. Time slows down, and I slow down to read and write. This week included a few afternoons to do just that. Besides, some of my green friends come indoors with me for four or five months. My poem “The Neighbor’s Tree” is started on Thursday afternoon while sipping on a cup of Earl Grey tea, watching the birds at the feeders, and gazing at the colorful sunset. I finished the poem when we gathered in Kansas City with family for another indoor weekend. Our granddaughters made valentines for Papa and me. The children did carpet sledding in the living room rather than snow sledding as single-digit temps started our days this weekend and will continue this coming week. A message from the 8-year-old was left in the bedroom we stayed in, “remember do good things”. Out of the mouths of babes. The mid-January landscape dressed in glistening snow was a beautiful sight during our travel eastward to home this afternoon.

The Neighbor’s Tree
The neighbor’s tree this wintry late afternoon
reaches upward to the gray-blue sky, the sun
spotlights its rough-barked limbs outlined in white.
The squirrels scurry back and forth
on a quest for more seeds and nuts
as the light creeps into the evening.
Pinks and purples fill the once blue sky
as shadows dissipate, dimness surrounds,
dusk gently blankets the snowy hillside.
The obscurity, ambiguity, then a glowing light,
the sun’s rays concentrate as a flashlight,
a January twilight is on the horizon.
Then night takes over minute after minute
with subdued moments leading to a hush,
the songbirds utter quiet rest in their nests.

The neighbor’s tree this late evening
is a perch for this night’s chatty barred owl,
“Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?”

Anna Marie Gall - January 18, 2025

“Remember do good things.” ~ Elise Gall

“One kind word can warm three winter months.” ~ Japanese Proverb

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

This One Gift

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This One Gift

Preparing for the holiday season was simple this year. Primitive, I suppose. With my grandson’s young cat in the house, no extravagant decorating. A tabletop tree with white lights, white and red beaded garlands, with no ornaments but the lone gold star for the topper. Shopping took place here and there for the past three months. Packages are wrapped of gold ribbons and paper fluff. At this season of giving Dean and I will be bearing gifts at small gatherings throughout the next two weeks. Our employers and my ladies’ group had their holiday parties. For Dean and I no single big gathering. With my family of origin, it is now just my sister and me. With Dean’s family, his siblings have multiple families to stretch their time with. Our grown children, too. Sickness kept us from visiting family in Kansas City this past weekend, but in a couple of weeks we will try again. Dean’s father will join us Christmas afternoon for holiday goodies, a scrumptious homemade dinner, and watching football.

Despite all the holiday pomp and circumstance, what is the one gift that matters? Jesus. His presence. His love. The meaning of His birth reaches to the Heavens and covers the whole Earth. This year of celestial phenomenon such as the Northern lights seen in Cades Cove and the total solar eclipse that swept across the northern hemisphere, still nothing compares to the birth of our Lord Jesus. God’s gift to you and me.

“Once in our world, a stable had something in it that was bigger than our whole world.” ~ C.S. Lewis 

For Goodness’ Sake

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For Goodness’ Sake

There is a children’s character named Pete, The Cat. And our youngest grandchildren like a story and sing a song that goes like this … “Pete the Cat was walking down the street, Ooh, it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the children were playing. He was feeling good. He was wearing his brand-new white shoes. Ooh he loved those white shoes. He loved them so much. He walked down the street singing this song. I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes. Oh, no! He stepped in a large pile of strawberries. What color did it turn his shoes? Red! Did he cry? Goodness, no! He just started singing this song.” Pete, The cat steps into blueberries and had blue shoes, then mud and had brown shoes, water and then had wet shoes. Each time “He just started singing his song.” Writer Eric Mark Litwin ends the story with “no matter what you step in, keep singing and walking ’cause it’s all good.” Despite what happens, good can be found.

“Prepare the way, prepare the way.” ~ Isaiah 40:3

The world seemed to turn upside down these past 2 weeks. On December 1 my brother, Rick had an heart incident which followed with many complications. He died on December 10. We had his visitation and funeral Mass yesterday. Much transpired those few days while Rick laid unconscious in ICU. A multitude of prayer warriors went to work, me included. The words that kept coming from my lips “prepare the way, prepare the way” as I laid hands on Rick’s body and prayed to his spirit. Yesterday family and friends came together to say our good-byes and surround Rick’s wife, their two sons, daughters-in-law, and four grandchildren. The word “goodness” resonated from my nephew’s eulogy and the priest’s homily. Rick wasn’t perfect as none of us are, but by the grace of God his life reflected goodness. And goodness has been and will be found even in Rick’s death.

“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” ~ Psalm 27:13

During the eulogy my nephew exhorted each of us to do good as the world needs goodness. Father Chris left Rick’s family and friends with this word of encouragement. “As we think of Rick and his example of goodness in the coming days, leave a bit of goodness each day we live.” A bit of Rickness.

“Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever! Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men! For He satisfies the longing soul and fills the hungry soul with goodness.” ~ Psalm 107:1

Frost-Bitten Holly Berries

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Frost-Bitten Holly Berries

Serene like a vintage Christmas card

embossed with frost-bitten holly berries,

pure white contrasted with bitter red.

The season of old bursting with promises

when walks in a snow-covered path

lead to a cozy cottage with a warm fire.

It all looks so beautiful, yet promises crushed

with unfaithfulness, sickness, poverty, death;

embers barely enough to keep the fire going.

Covered with the bitter cold that sickens

the weak body, confused mind, and suffering soul,

yet many frost-bitten berries survive until spring.

Anna Marie Gall ~ December 7, 2024

November’s Remnants

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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.”

My Fill These Autumn Days

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My Fill These Autumn Days

Our October and now November is filled with family and community activities. A good busy. Outdoor family photos were taken the last weekend in October despite the very chilly morning. We could see our breathes! The trees were gorgeous greens, yellows, oranges, and reds with the location not far from our daughter’s and son’s-in-law house in Kansas City. Color coordinating credits to our Kansas City daughter. We experienced God’s creation in the vibrant autumn colors of nature. Capturing smiles and all twenty-four eyes of twelve Gall family members looking towards the photographer was a chore. She did an excellent job.

November is the … changeling between crimson October and cold white December.” ~ Margaret Atwood

My oldest daughter and grandson, their two little dogs and one cat are staying with us temporarily. A big change in our household. The cottage’s seams are bursting with animal activity. Our grandson, Eli is homeschooled and started coming to my work one morning a week as a volunteer at the senior center. The older citizens love him! Our daughter, Rachel has been collecting autumn leaves and pressing them between wax paper in books. My disabled daughter is seeking a house for three people and three fur babies in St. Francis or Jefferson County. If you know of any decent places for rent or sale, please message me my FB friends.

Dean and I purchased a Little Free Library box from the non-profit. Dean set it up on a wooden post in the front yard, and I partial filled it with books. I need go through boxes for more children’s books to place in it. My hopes that our neighbors enjoy reading as much as we do. The past few days I am busy with Rho Chi, the local chapter of Epsilon Sigma Alpha, an organization I joined late September. We are preparing for the annual St. Jude auction. I am helping with the raffle baskets and decorating miniature Christmas trees for this coming weekend’s auction. We ladies made time for a fun evening at The French Creperie where we made sweet and savory crepes, learned a few French words, and just had fun being silly. A great group of ladies with good intentions, works worth the energy and benefit the community.

We had been in a drought for months and finally received much needed rain. Although, eight to ten inches in the past forty-eight hours are not ideal. Swollen creeks and tributary rivers flooded in the lowline areas. More rain coming this Saturday. The weather folks say the bigger rivers will not flood. Praying for the safety of our neighbors in our town and nearby areas. Our flooding is minor compared to what the folks in western North Carolina experienced late in September. In a few days Dean and I will travel over a 4-day weekend to take collected winter clothing and blankets to Asheville, North Carolina. Not sure what all God has in mind, but we will be there and ready. Dean and I are equipped and are enough with God’s guidance and strength.

“I am calm. I am grateful for this day. I find joy in ordinary places. I am resilient. I am enough”

~ Mary Davis 

“The scent of cinnamon and cloves

Round pumpkins and crisp, sweet apples

A world turned ruddy in rich shades of orange and gold

Puffing chimneys, sweaters, warm drinks

And leaves, gently leaving one home for another—

Autumn.” ~ Laura Jaworski