My little girl, Annabelle! How she loved the garden and being outside and snuggles on my lap. I miss her mama personality. As you can see, Anna Banana owned the garden. The house. The yard. The couch. The bed. The chair. As any true cat does.
This Throwback Thursday flings us back to when we first started a little kitchen garden in our old house. This triangle plot used to be cement. TOTAL concrete. Ugh! After my honey worked his fingers to the bone removing icky cement, I went right to work, planting tiny rows of radish, lettuce, beans, peas. We added flowers, parsley, thyme, and even strawberries. And every year, I continued to remove bits of broken concrete that worked its way to the surface.
It bloomed, grew, produced, this little potager, and gave me hours of pleasure. It also transformed over time to include a fence (to keep tiny grands from trampling tender shoots), blueberries, a host of insects and pests, and a wide variety of vegetable experiments and floral specimens. The very best year of production was when our neighbor found and homed a swarm of honeybees. Oh, did we miss those bees when he moved!
Do you have a potager? A secret garden? A weed patch?
2 a (1): incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result (Merriam-Webster, 2019)
There are three options for rescuing neglected metal clothesline poles. Not the wimpy aluminum, bendy sort; but the solid, steel, withstand heavy-duty sleeping bags and families of wet jeans type.
I watch for these opportunities. For case 1 and 2, the clothesline poles are clearly not in use. Besides the lack of actual line strung between poles, each one of the poles in on opposite sides of a 6-foot fence. This is not conducive to the drying of clothes.
For case 3, the location of said poles is just off a parking lot, in the middle of, well, basically nowhere.
None of these clothesline poles are being used, when in fact, they would all be happy in my neck of the woods. I would be quite overjoyed to adopt a set of metal twins and bring them into my family.
I tell you this, but the man is not so sure we should knock on the door of individuals we do not know and ask for permission to dig up, haul, and relocate said harbingers of summer laundry season.
Here’s the irony.
In the backyard of our lower valley home, we had THE best clothesline. It served us well for many years. Until we sold our home and moved north. One doesn’t know to take along the clothesline. For future want.
Several years and moves later, we lived in an older home with a postage stamp backyard. No clothesline. Et voila! Our son and daughter-in-law, having purchased a home with some space, were the owners of a set of clothesline poles. Unneeded clothesline poles. How that can be true, I have no idea. But at that time, it was true.
We were gifted the clothesline poles. Yay for me! The man figured how to wrangle a decent clothesline in our minuscule backyard, tucked behind the old shed. Perfect! I loved doing laundry and hanging it to dry on my clothesline.
Fast forward. We sold our home, bought an RV, and moved to-wait for it-our son and daugther-in-law’s home. Not a permanent move, but in order to work on building our own small home. Our residence here has stretched longer than we planned, but that’s what happens sometimes.
And the clothesline poles? The ones that were originally here? They are there. At the old home. And I am back to not having a clothesline.
Funny thing, irony. If we had been slower to add the new clothesline at the old house, we would have a clothesline here. Read this post to see the ironic clothesline.
Making rubber stamped cards is one of my favorite pastimes.
So much so that many of my escapes are planned around rubber stamping adventures. Two of my college roomies are fans of rubber stamping and scrapping, so weekends spent enjoying both creative pursuits are both relaxing and invigorating for me. We occasionally try to lure other college buddies to the bright side of stamping in order to multiply our fun.
Shopping usually involves a trip to craft stores or thrift shops to peruse donations and products to add to my stamping ‘stuff.’ The habit of shopping for rubber stamping craft supplies runs strong in my tribe.
One entire side of the over-the-table RV cupboard is dedicated to storing completed rubber stamped cards. I love sending them, but I adore making them more.
One half of the boot (what we call the beneath the bed area, outside entrance storage area in the RV) is home to a solid amount of rubber stamps, papers, ink pads, tools, and a large variety of craft supplies relating to making cards.
My Pinterest Rubber Stamping board is filled with photos of new cards to try, techniques to learn, and pictures of cards I’ve made. You can see my board here.
So, if you find yourself winterized and stuck inside the house this weekend, maybe it’s time to dig into a new craft. Let these card pictures inspire your creations.
As for me, I’ve penciled in my first stamping get-together of the new year. This girl is ready for a mental and creative break.
Sadly, we are pre-mourning the February closure of one of our favorite stamping stores, Impress Rubber Stamps. The University Village store (Seattle) is closing. Fortunately, the Tukwila Impress store is remaining open. Forever we hope!
For our 25th anniversary, we treated us to an Alaskan cruise. Princess Cruise Lines really outdid themselves. So many options, so much great food and entertainment. It was a delight to travel with my best friend. Relaxation, sight-seeing, swimming, activities-the offerings were more than any one person could attend. Looking back, our appearance seems much younger than now. LOL.
The first picture was a selfie taken while we were watching an outdoor movie on the top deck. Remember, it was Alaska! Blankets provided, snuggling necessary to stay warm. We were thankful that it wasn’t raining!
This picture was taken during the fancy dress-up evening on board our ship. After arriving home, my honey treated me to a no-cal floral cake. Beautiful!
We found this totem pole in Juneau. I love the faded paint and weather-worn wood.
Panning for gold did not improve our financial prospects. Not one bit.
If you ever get the chance, do enjoy a cruise! We were fortunate to get a balcony, which really helped when we felt motion sickness. Between the cool air from the slightly open balcony door and the rocking of the ship, we had the best sleep ever.
Next year will be our 35th anniversary. I wonder where we will end up for that anniversary? What adventures have you had when celebrating special occasions? All suggestions will be considered. 😉
In our area of the northwest, we often have winter snow days or late start days when the roads are slick early in the morning. Just recently, an overnight heavy wet cold snow fell, causing slippery roads and perfect conditions for a late start (for school to start). It’s only 2 hours late, but one can have plenty of fun in those 120 minutes.
First up was sledding down the pasture hill. The 5 grands did a wonderful job sharing one sled, pairing up with each other and racing to see who could travel the longest distance down the slope.
Once the proper bright red noses and cheeks were acquired, we trooped inside for a snow day tea party, all ages included. This was not the traditional apres snow play hot cocoa and cookies, as both Nana and mommy (Auntie) were fresh out of hot chocolate mix. This was find what’s in the pantry and enjoy it to the fullest. So tea it was.
Tiny tea cups, spoons, saucers, and tea pots were filled with tepid herbal tea. Honey dripped stickily into cups and was stirred in. Spills were mopped up with place mats and towels, and peanuts stood in for tea cakes. For one young girl, those tea cake peanuts tasted marvelous when they were soaked in tea and scooped out with a spoon.
A fun time was had by all. Pinkies up for the next snow day late start!
Once the 3 older grands went to late school, the 2 younger ones had another type of snow day.
As long as I can remember, I’ve always had to tidy the nest before beginning and completing projects.
In college, I had to clean my room, organize my desk, do the laundry, and make lists of things I needed to get done before I could tackle homework and class assignments.
In high school, I had to make my bed and I’m assuming put away belongings in the room I shared with my sister. I don’t remember those years as far as organizing, except I was on the college track and academic and social paths were solidly beneath my feet in order to ensure that I was able to attend the college of my choice. Go, Western Washington University!
Before that, I remember enjoying nesting when I played. Literally, I loved surrounding myself with a circle of toys (the nest) and playing contentedly within nest borders. I suppose that was a form of nesting.
Now, at the age of 56, something in my personality requires the same urgency to organize my surroundings and then write and/or work on deadline projects.
You can imagine the trouble this causes when living in a tiny RV. There is only so much room for organizing and tidying! I work at the RV table-aka-desk. Each time I need to work, the table HAS to be cleared in order to make space for the laptop and assorted files, books, and resources I need for references. I pull out the TV tray for my desk extension and prop work items around me. When it’s time to stop writing, reversing the nesting process gives me plenty of opportunities to think creatively about where to store (and be able to find again) my work items. Poor honey, he really puts up well with my hogging of space.
Just last weekend, I tackled the messy paper stack on the RV bench. Also known as my filing cabinet and book shelf. It was pretty bad.
Surprise! When I pulled out the stacks of things to be sorted and properly filed, I discovered that condensation was making the back of the cushion damp and a tiny bit of mold was happily growing in the corner. Lovely, that. This type of cleaning need requires immediate removal of all cushions, the wiping down of cushions and mold areas, and thorough drying of said items.
We tend to forget, my honey and I, that this task is often necessary at least once a winter season. So I cleaned, organized, and reassembled.
While I still have a pile of little writerly notes (IDEAS, friends, those precious papers are filled with inspiration!), the rest of the RV dining area/office/guest bedroom/and family room is tidy and ready for work projects.
That is, until the pitter-patter of little grands enters the RV. Things quickly get scooted out of the way and piled in the corner of the bench. This habit is also called JOB SECURITY for the need to organize THEN write.
How about you? Do you have any quirky habits or needs that have to be fulfilled before you tackle a big project or activity? Please tell me someone else out there has to nest!
This is my word of the year for 2019. I’m excited to see what new thoughts come to mind as I ponder the meaning and the depths of TREASURE. I know my life is filled with treasures, and I want to take time to be thankful for my treasures.
TREASURE is a unique word of the year in that I already have three different facets to explore:
1. My treasure, my hope, is in Jesus. He is the best treasure in my life! I want to explore my Treasure this year.
2. My treasures, plural, are my family. I have a loving, supporting, wonderful spouse. I have fabulous children and perfectly grand grands. I have extended family and friends, more treasures. I want to take time to recognize and be thankful for my treasures.
3. My treasures, gifts with which I’ve been blessed, are many. Home (be it an RV), cat, vehicles for getting around, writing, hobbies, talents, skills, opportunities, health, food…this list is huge. I can’t wait to find out more about my treasures, acknowledge them, and be thankful.
So, “Come further up, come further in!,” as C.S. Lewis says in The Last Battle. I’m going to dig deep and discover the hidden gems found in my word of the year, TREASURE.
Onward!
P.S. If you have a word, phrase, verse, or quote of the year, please let us know in the comments!
It sounds odd now, when I say roots, but by choosing it, I claimed the focus of concentrating on my roots.
Not only my spiritual roots, but the roots of who I am as a woman, mother, daughter, sister, wife, Nana. The importance of roots in the natural world, my love of nature and gardening, hiking, photography-all played a part in my word choice. My roots anchor me to who I was, am, and will be. With my roots firmly attached to Jesus, I know I am secure and safe from the storms of life, ponderous and damaging though they be.
My art project incorporating the word ROOTS didn’t pop into my head until well after the year got underway. Using watercolor paints, permanent markers, glitter glue (after all, life can always use more sparkle), ink, and rubber stamps, I created a piece to remind me of my word of the year.
My art was not stagnant the entire year. As I found more Bible verses or sayings, had thoughts about the word, or saw something missing and filled it in, I added to my project. I really like the finished look. It occupied a space on my work bulletin board where it was easy to see.
Tomorrow I will share my new 2019 word of the year. I’ve had some thoughts about it, some unique applications already in place. Just recently, the image for my art project popped into my mind, but it is not yet on paper.
[PEACE. I found this unpublished post from June 2017. It could read the same for any year. There will always be stuff. As you read this, know that we all face struggles. And peace is available.]
This was supposed to be my year of peace. Not like The Year of Sue (In the Middle), but a year where my focus word was going to be PEACE, and I would gracefully float through the year, thinking peace-filled thoughts and letting peace drip off my fingertips.
Nope. To date, this year has been filled with the most anguish, sorrow, betrayal, stress, frustration, and anxiety I’ve ever experienced. Notice that peace is not listed. It has been hiding in the corner. Right where I’ve shoved it.
As per the title of the blog, we’re talking life. Love, sure. Laughter? At myself and the grands. But mostly, life.
Just this morning, while giving thanks for my breakfast, I asked Jesus for peace. His peace. My mind instantly popped to the story in the Bible (Matthew 8:23-27; Luke 8:22-25) of Jesus sleeping on the boat while the storm raged all around, frantic disciples fearing imminent drowning.
What I need is to be like Jesus, sleeping through the storm. Well, peacefully resting in the midst of the storm. That’s what I need to learn this year.
My thoughts switched to the disciples who should have taken their clue from the Master. He was napping, no concerns, things were fine. Ok, if Jesus is fine with this storm, we are fine with it. Sure there’s water coming in, the wind is blowing up some fine waves, rain is coming down in sheets, but if Jesus is good, we’re good.
But no. They forgot the bit about Jesus being in charge of all the stuff. All. The. Stuff. Weather, lakes, boats, drowning included. Me? I would have joined the friends on board. “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus! Wake-up-wake-up-wake-up-wake-up! We’re all gonna die!!!”
Yes. That would be me. Totally forgetting everything I’ve already seen and heard. Living in the drama of the moment.
Instead of who I want to be, I’m just like them. The eyewitnesses who saw every big and little thing Jesus did, more than we can know this side of Heaven, and they still missed the Big Picture until later, after everything was said and done and the Lord ascended to Heaven and the Holy Spirit came to dwell in believers.
I forget. The big and little things Jesus did and does. I even have the entire Bible to read – something many of the disciples contributed to but were not around to see completed.
It’s not circumstances I need to focus on, but Him. I KNOW this. But…
I don’t want a year of this chaos.
Peace. Some of it may be me allowing Him to redirect my thoughts. Some of it is my choice to wallow, see the negative, hang on to the pain with all ten of my fingers and toes. Some is allowing the Holy Spirit to fill me, daily, every minute, each second.
The year of peace – when I allow myself to nap in the boat with Jesus while the storm rages all around. I’m sure I’ll peek around to see what’s going on, glance at the Captain to see if all is well, then snuggle back up for a good rest.
Love, Laughter, and Life 