Tag Archives: write

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

Summer Weekend Rest

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Summer Weekend Rest

We are blessed to have all our children, grandchildren, and one surviving parent living in our home state, Missouri. Travel for visits with them are frequent. We had my sister in town for a week in June. The Kansas City family was in town last weekend, so some local outings were ensued and enjoyed. We spent a Sunday afternoon in Farmington to take my youngest grandson, Eli and his buddy out for lunch. We met our newest granddog, Tillie, a stray puppy with the most gorgeous blue eyes that wandered onto the farm. This week was my granddaughter, Libby’s 20th birthday, Dean and I’s14th wedding anniversary, and the 4th of July, and we chose to stay in our hometown except for yesterday. We ventured out to our favorite neighboring river towns of Hermann and Washington, MO. The recent summer rains and storms have the Missouri River up and over the banks in some places. Tributary creeks are swelling into the fields and yards as well. Some holiday activities were cancelled because of the flooding, but less fires started with fireworks. Cabooses and train stations became our entertainment.

These weekends while Dean and I are at home, we are able to get some chores done. Dean’s parent’s home sold last month, so no more emptying cabinets, drawers, purging, and throwing away. Now we sort through the treasured items Dean brought home as mementos of his childhood and heritage. He built a shelf in the basement to organize these items. The Japanese stemware his father brought home while serving in the Army will be placed in our China hutch. We added a handsome wood bench to our living room. A worktable for planting and building projects sets under the carport as well as an old tool cabinet.

Yes, somewhere in between chores, rest and relaxation have been included in our weekends. With summer travels at a minimal, it is possible. For myself, writing is relaxing. Just about every weekday afternoon after cooking for the local seniors, I get a short nap, then write until dinner needs to get started. Some evenings and weekends include writing as well. My first book, a memoir of recipes, short stories, and poems has been my primary focus these past few months. I am just about finished with it after three years of plugging away. I promise myself, one last recipe, one last short story, and then the photos. Writing can be an addiction. Dean is my first reader, then I will ask a couple of others before going to a professional editor. The publisher and the printer are to follow. I will let you know when my first book is available.

April’s Anointing

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April’s Anointing

April’s showers have brought a sparkle to the earth, at least in my neck of the woods. Spring cleaning begins with Mother nature’s cleansing the debris off the trees, fauna, and outbuildings with showers and storms these past few weeks. The rain soakings have brightened the redbud and dogwood trees blossoms in beautiful contrast to the fresh green leaves and various shades of green fields. Tulips and grape hyacinths are just about finished blooming and the buds on the peonies will be opening probably before May. In the Missouri countryside the farm ponds and creek beds are full. A weekend spent in northern Arkansas revealed similar countryside vignettes. Wild violets and buttercups dotted the roadsides with flowering almond bushes and irises flourishing near the farmhouses.

Our cottage home has come by some spring cleaning and sprucing up, too. We added a furniture piece to our living room. My mother’s china hutch came out of storage in our rental house’s garage, wiped down sparkling clean the glass panes and mirrors. With careful selection of items from Dean’s parents’ home, we uncovered boxes of his grandmother’s china and brought those home after our last trip there. We cleaned these circa 1930 pieces and placed in the hutch as well as my grandmother’s china and my mother’s Blue Willow collection. The glistening glass antiques have given an extra touch of warmth and nostalgia in our small abode.

A jot down to Arkansas Ozarks last weekend brought Dean and I to Eureka Springs. I facilitated a culinary and writing workshop at the Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow on Saturday afternoon. The Culinary Suite is housed in another cute cottage. I felt right at home making preparations for the culinary lesson on lemon and herbs in the suite’s pristine kitchen space. Five lovely local ladies from town came for the workshop. We all enjoyed making and indulging in lemon herb tea bread in the kitchen then moved onto the front porch to write block-out poems. Porch chatter and lots of laughs to share with the ladies on that sunny spring afternoon after the rains. Life surely is sweet. God’s blessings besmeared on us. April’s anointing.

Green Spaces

I long for green spaces … growth.

Water overflowing into vessels

Streams wash the earth … renew. 

Springtime green comes to stay,

Spring rains shower, drip, drip.

Puddles of water to run through

Soaking each toe … anointing.

I long for green spaces … growth.

Anna Marie Gall ~ March 14, 2018

A Reading, Writing, And Tea Affair

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A Reading, Writing, And Tea Affair

Reading, writing, and tea. This love triangle only intensifies with the snowstorms. This latest winter storm included thundersnow, so the St. Louis area had 3 – 6 inches of the frozen precipitation depending on how much thunder a person heard. St. Charles had about 5 inches. Very cold air came with this snow, so indoor activities only for me this weekend. Housecleaning is not on the agenda. Reading, writing, tea, and then daydreaming about the upcoming gardening season is. The seeds catalogs and DIY articles are perused. My mind imagines and creates.

“Life is unpredictable, it changes with the seasons, even your coldest winter happens for the best of reasons, and though it feels eternal, like all you’ll ever do is freeze, I promise spring is coming, and with it, brand new leaves.” ~ Erin Hanson

Deanna Greens and Garden Art’s story is still unfolding. Our lives are busy with jobs and our growing family with nine grandkids. Dean and I no longer grow under the 1200-square foot greenhouse and screenhouse. Although, we very much enjoy growing herbs, perennials, and blooms. We have our perennials at our cottage home in town. Our cinder-block basement houses the green life during the winter. We have an oil heater and a grow light that keeps the plants content for the five- or six-months cold season. Outdoors, our jonquils sprouted through the mulch and brown leaves this past week. Their yellow heads are wanting to burst open. As the yellow blooms unfold, we know Spring is around the corner. With Spring comes the yard projects. A backyard shed is one of those projects this year. This gardener’s daydreams are a tiny stained-glass greenhouse as well as a potting table. See where those dreams go.

“It’s nice to dream even when you’ve had pains and disappointments.” ~ Antonia Bread 

Grace To Begin Again

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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


July’s Gifts

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July’s Gifts

Steaming hot July weather has kept me inside most days and evenings. The AC units are getting a workout this summer. This month’s humid days have also brought some much-needed rain. My potted perennials, flowers, and herbs are drinking up the natural water and growing like gangbusters. The gigantic lemon basil plant provided adequately for my lemon-herb tea bread presented at The Essence of Lemon, Herbs, & Writing workshop held this weekend at Long Row Lavender Farm. For these I am thankful for, the summer warmth and rain.

The workshop had two components. First, I taught the guests how to maximize flavor for a lemon-herb tea bread using three ingredients: the zest of a lemon, the juice, and lemony-type herb such as lemon basil, lemon thyme, or lemon balm. Second, I taught how to write a black-out or block-out poem using a recipe, magazine article, or page from a book. The example I shared was the prize-winning Valentine poem I wrote to my Dean using words from the lemon-herb tea bread recipe. Poems’ words are concise, and the guests learned the process of picking out descriptive words from their selected article or recipe. One guest shared her poem eloquently written in honor of a young man who was recently killed an motorcycle accident. The words chosen came from a magazine article on different types of lavender. The words seemed appointed for her to write. It was a beautiful experience for her, the rest of the workshop guests, and me.

I am also thankful for the time given on a few afternoons this month to craft button journals made for the workshop guests, with one afternoon spent watching our 7-year-old granddaughter design her personal button journal. While she visited for a week, we made a special trip to Lincoln Land in Springfield, IL so Elise could learn more about her favorite president. She found a top hat like Lincoln’s, some special stickers to accessorize her journal as well as helped me find a jar of vintage buttons at the antique store. We made some fun visits with other family members while Elise was in town, but also spent time at our homey cottage watching and listening to the hummingbirds and songbirds, gathering withered leaves along our walks (and there were a lot due to the drought in June), and Papa Dean learned how to play Memory Match. Times with loved ones are treasured in our hearts. So thankful!

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.

Winter Daydreams

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Winter Daydreams

“I have dreamed something entirely pretend with my eyes wide open. The sweet wonder of it makes me smile. I believe in the emotions implanted by dreams, for they are not pretend, and they will never cease to bloom.” ~ Richelle E Goodrich

Enough of the cold already! Cloudy skies bring snowflakes, some days more than others. Temperatures have dipped into the single digits on more days than not. I know winter has to run its course, that is the nature of things. But January brought us enough coldness and viruses to last us through the year. I want to play outside, go for walks, and garden. The seed catalogs plant the thoughts and bring on daydreams of flourishing flowers and gorgeous green life. I want to plant more flowering perennials and herbs. And I aim to grow some succulents this year, planting them in unique planters, repurposed vessels to sell in the flea market booth. There isn’t enough room for more plants in the basement, so it will have to wait until spring.

With my allergy to the cold being outdoors is difficult to do without serious repercussions. So I busy myself with reading, decluttering the house, and new writing projects. I submitted poems to six publishers’ contests and challenges this month. The latest is a “black-out poem” with a Valentine theme. I loved the challenge of taking an already published piece and reusing specific words that had meaning to me to write an original poem, then marking out the words I did not want in my poem. The link to my black-out poem will be shared once it is published on Valentine’s Day. Of course, my poem has a culinary theme. That is my other time occupation this winter.

Soups, soups, and more soups! Every week this winter it has been a big pot of soup or chili homemade. They fill our souls and tummies. Chicken-noodle, wild rice & mushroom, Italian stone, and cheesy broccoli soups, and 3-bean chili so far. Speaking of soup, my Italian Stone Soup recipe is featured in the Winter issue of e-Merge online magazine that just published. Click on the link above and make it! Full of veggies and robust flavor. I have refrained from baking sweets and breads. Those holiday cookies were enough to throw off my A1c numbers. I have to be good to my body. Those winter daydreams include fresh picked organic greens from the garden bed. My cooking classes for 2022 finally start up in February. Italian Cooking Made Easy and Cupid’s Brunch are on the agenda for next month. A warm destination occupies those winter daydreams and planned for February, too. More on that next time …

“She was always daydreaming. She never wanted to live in the real world; she always seemed to be separated from other children her age. They couldn’t understand her or her imagination. She was always thinking outside of the box, breaking rules, and only following what her heart told her was right.” ~ Shannon A. Thompson

The Gift of One Year, One Day

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The COVID pandemic life continues another year with social distancing, masks, vaccines, remote work, and political debates. Dean and I felt more at ease once we received our vaccines early spring. This year became new, uncharted territory when I retired from full-time government administration work in June. Several years without regular pay raises due to tax issues and corruption had something to do with my decision. My inheritance allowed me to make this life change now rather than later. Subsequently, my mental and physical health improved while focusing on different work. God’s new purposes are being revealed to me one day at a time.

I am in full swing to my loves of writing, gardening, cooking, & antiques. I now teach per diem adult & children’s culinary classes at the local community college in their continuing education program. I opened a booth in an antique store & flea market near my daughter’s town and taken other items to resale stores repurposing items once belonging to myself, my mother, & others who donate. I dubbed it “Flock Together Mercantile”, as it is a “birds of a feather” endeavor. Monies earned go towards my daughter’s medical bills to treat her rare nerve disorder. Mom would have approved. A non-profit may be in the future? My life-long passion of writing includes recipes & poems found in eMerge, an online publication as well as my WordPress blogs, & more recently six-word stories on gratitude with Flapper Press. My Seashells poem is included in the book Dairy Hollow Echo that came out in August. This collection of poems & short stories on love, joy, & hope has already made Amazon’s best seller’s list for the anthology category. Since August we once again opened our St. Charles cottage one weekend a month to Airbnb guests. A detached garage with a studio is in the expansion plans for 2023, but maybe sooner. We will be able to offer many more weekends to guests. This year we had installed new roofs for both houses & gutters as well as a new HVAC system for the St. Charles cottage.

Dean & I road tripped several times, keeping off airplanes during the pandemic. Besides, it’s the journey getting there as well as the destination. Late March into April, we visited family & friends in Arkansas, Texas, and western Missouri. We searched, finally found the Texas bluebonnets blooming in the fields as we visited during their early season. We enjoyed a family weekend in Branson in early June. During the summer I spent a week in Eureka Springs at The Writing Colony at Dairy Hollow in their culinary suite. What a lovely experience, a week to just write, make culinary creations, & meet other writers. A September week included cranberry bogs & festival in Wisconsin, & a millinery boutique in Galena, Illinois where we purchased Edwardian-style hats for a costume party. Dean’s cousin, Leigh passed away in October, traveled to Arkansas for her memorial services. Mid-November was another weekend in Branson & where we will finish the year there with family all wearing our red buffalo check attire. In 2021 Missouri celebrates her 200th year as a state in the Union. Dean & I saw so many places & towns taking the country state & county highways this year. We discovered the quaint Missouri River town of Glasgow while staying at Dean’s classmate’s charming inn, The Orchard House Inn. A few Friday nights were enjoyed at the DeSoto CIA Hall where my childhood friend serves an elaborate menu to the local community while her partner plays old country-western, gospel tunes. Our Saturday nights we still watch the Opry show on the Circle Network with country radio personality, Bobby Bones. Hope to be in Nashville in 2022 to see a live Opry show.

A spring tea party, birthday celebrations, memorial services, a nephew’s wedding, long weekends, & holidays brought us together with family. Dean & I’s eight grandchildren continue to grow, ages now range from 20 years old to 14 months. Our six grown children work hard at their occupations & homes. A stray puppy found on the streets near my daughter’s came home with me for a week until we found a home for Peanut Butter. Dean’s brother & family adopted & renamed him Scout PB. My twin sister, older brother, sister-in-law, Dean, & I cleaned out my mother’s villa this summer. We made some minor repairs, put it on the market, & the home sold at a price higher than we asked for. Dean’s parents have had a difficult year. His mother fell, requiring hip surgery with a slow, but sure recovery. I spent a week & Dean most of November in KC helping his parents, making their house more safely accessible.

Dean hopes to retire in about four years. I picture him in free-lance research & consulting after his work with the National Archives, as his love for history is broad. He returned to the federal building two days a week this autumn, works remotely the other three days. My 61-years old hubby remains in good health; tall, dark, & handsome as ever in his salt & pepper hair. Dean tinkers with his plane models or the bird feeders where he tries to make them squirrel-proof. Key word is “tries”. A December tornado just missed our greenhouse/screenhouse in Defiance. Spring greens from the screenhouse still fill our salad bowls during the warm weather months. Harvested herbs spice up our dishes during the winter months. Our hydrangea blooms provide texture and color the year round inside & out. We revel over the maroon pansies blooming on the porch planter late into December, the longest growing season that I recall. No white Christmas here. In 2022 I hope to complete my first book of short stories with a culinary theme as well as a poetry chapbook. Meantime, I write & will submit to more literary magazines & websites. Our feathered derby & cloche hats wait on the chaise for our next outing on the town. Established routines such as quiet time, prayers, & journaling are interwoven with such spontaneity. The days do not have to be same old, same old. Revere each day & moment like a gift. Then it becomes just that, a gift even on the difficult days. Sometimes it’s a simple red apple from the fruit basket, or a fancy wrapped package. Untie the bow, unwrap the paper. There is something wonderful inside for you. God-given.

Dormancy

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No winter-like simulation now, it is the real deal.  The winter weather seems to be sticking around for more than a few days.  Icy, sleety, and snowy last week, and again this week dipping into the teens overnight and staying below or close to freezing during the day.  Due to budget constraints our winter vacation week was decidedly best to stay in our home state of Missouri this year.  No expensive sandy beaches to sunbathe on.  Making the most of our budget and what our state has to offer during this winter season, Dean and I chose to visit our state’s Ozark Mountains.  Most of our vacation budget is for a lovely lodge in the woods, the journey there only a 5-hour drive from home.  Home-cooked meals prepared in a well-stocked kitchenette, and an occasional meal out satisfy us both.  Every night a vignette of soft lights dot the mountain sides from the valley we are nestled in.

Dean and I venture out on half-day trips for a couple of days, visiting small towns and cousins.  We went target shooting at an outdoor range one afternoon.  We meander into northern Arkansas part of the week.  Naked hardwood trees, pines, and cedars clothe the mountains along with icicled cliffs and crags much like glittered ornaments.  Flowing valley streams, swooping birds of prey, and cattle feeding in the fields are the only movement around.  Dormancy is what we experience, and what we need. Oxford’s online dictionary defines dormancy … “the state in which a plant is alive but not actively growing” and with this sentence example “dormancy allows woody plants to survive these unfavorable conditions”.  

The quiet, unassuming beauty of the woods in dormancy stills my busy body, mind, and soul.  Very present moment several times each day, a retreat without structure.  Just being, breathing in and out, and audibly awake.  It is not necessary to block out the static and noise of my job, the house, and almost no obligations as I am far enough away from these occupations.  Words come in and out on occasion, Dean and I relating this quiet vacation week to our retirement years.  Some words make a page in my journal, and others are just thoughts in dormancy for a later writing in favorable conditions and more life lived.

This year I am ending the summer season of my wellness career.  The autumn season of my career follows, short and sweet like Missouri’s autumns with the winter season close behind.  The dormant season always emerges into a glorious spring song.  A book of collected letters, Letters To A Young Poet, poet Rainer Maria Rilke urges the young budding poet, Franz Xavier Kappus to look inward and know what motivates his own writing.  Rilke encourages the development of a rich inner life which is the process of creative art. “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet.  In today’s words, live today, be present moment.  Some answers come eventually.