Expectation
of falling leaves
laced windows
crinkled edges on mud puddles
Nesting
for darkened skies
steaming breaths
everlasting winter nights
Embrace
need for warmth
bundled outings
dampness pervading excursions
Breathing
knife edged air
smoke heated rooms
Savor the moment
Peace
over bounteous tables
quilted beds
in heart and home
Tranquility
The seasons change
all is well
Nested
Welcome, baby plastic tree!
I can’t stand it!
Two fresh pine trees outside, one planted and one cut, both decorated with white lights and silver stars and well watered. One potted artificial tree with blue lights next to the door. That doesn’t cut it for me, the lover of all things Christmas tree. The inside of the RV was too bare.
But with 2 kitties, lack of floor space, and no extra counter space, what is one to do?
Get a tree anyway.
Welcome little plastic tree, pre-wired and covered with plastic ornaments. Thank you for lighting up our indoor Christmas space. I know the kitties can’t hurt you, though they try, and you can’t (shouldn’t?) break.
So again, welcome. How lovely are your tiny little fake branches and your cheerful glow!
3 trees – tiny in front, tall in the middle, and blue next to the door.
Outdoor Tree Update: The Christmas tree down count is 3 wind events, which equals 3 pick-up-the-tree-and-replace-the-stars outings.
How about you? How many trees do you have? Do you have to pet-proof your Christmas decor? I’d love to hear I am not alone!
There I was. Putzing around while my honey worked up a sweat digging out a fresh little Christmas tree. I couldn’t really help him, one shovel and all.
In our area, we can purchase a tree permit from the forest service and dig or cut a tree up to 15 feet tall. As long as we follow the rules of where and where not, we get to choose whichever tree we love!
The first tree ‘we’ loved was a beauty! Between 5-6 feet tall, symmetrical, gorgeous. Plans were changed and we decided to dig up this pretty baby (by we, I mean he) and immediately plant it in the pasture before the ground froze.
Uhm. 5-6 foot evergreen trees do not come with short and easy-to-remove-from-the-dirt roots. After probably 25 minutes of heavy duty grunt work, we told the tree we love you and grow well and strong and shoveled all the dirt back and tamped it down. The tree would not budge. It loved where it lived.
The results from this attempt made us decide to dig up a smaller tree. MUCH smaller.
We found a lovely, adorable little tree stuck on the side of a hill. It called out to us – “Take me home!”
So my honey started digging. We had expectations for a shorter dig time. This prediction did not account for the rock. We also planned on potting this cutie and enjoying it inside the RV and planting it later in the spring.
Except for the rock. And the huge curvy taproot wrapped around the rock that would have forced us to use a pot the size of a small car in order to cover it with soil. That sort of container does not fit in the RV.
Plan C. Bag up the cute tree which still required 15 or so minutes for extraction, and immediately introduce it to the new home in the pasture.
Our second tree, originally planned as a larger cut tree, then switched to “Let’s dig out 2 trees,” was then maneuvered back into the original plan after the digging marathons. A stately and fragrant tree became our cut tree.
One can never tell what is lurking below the surface. Rocks, roots, acres of soil – depth of stability, secure anchorage, ablility to withstand hurricane force winds or mountains of heavy snow. Baby trees face all sorts of dangerous conditions out in the wild. And each one causes the tree to grow stronger and more resilient, develop even deeper roots, and hang on tight.
I should have taken a picture of that root wrapped rock. As a reminder. But the mushrooms were calling and I didn’t realize the significance of the rock. It’s like that sometimes. Upon later reflection, insights swivel my viewfinder to see what’s truly important.
Sometimes I feel like a baby tree, stuff coming at me from all directions. I bend, shudder, and quake, tossed like a dandelion puff on the wind. But as long as my heart roots are wrapped around the Rock, I am safe and can rest in His care and protection. I can continue to grow and become stronger as I sink my roots deep and wrap them ever tighter around my source of strength.
The Rock.
“Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness.”
– Colossians 2:7
My signature fragrance!
By Angie Quantrell @AngieQuantrell
I dabbled a bit at the perfume counters and my grandmas’ display of pretty bottles for years. But once I found my lifetime signature fragrance, that was it. Committed. Loyal. Done searching.
Oh, I may have stopped to smell other roses along the way, but this was MY scent.
Tresor. In French, a treasure. For me, my favorite perfume.
This personality trait, for I have realized that’s what it is, does not only apply to Lancôme.
When my honey and I got engaged, I loved my ring. As we married, I gained another simple gold band. At ten years in, he bought me a 10-tiny-diamond band. At 20 years, we went hunting together. The sales lady wanted me to ‘trade-up’ for a larger diamond. How about NO? I am sentimental about my rings and each one is precious. I don’t care about the size. I care about the commitment and memories and love they symbolize. I have the same rings without traded-up stones. Because they are MY rings from MY love.
Speaking of love, sure I dabbled a bit here and there. Window shopping, as it were. Tried on a few different sorts, but once I found my man, that was it. Best friends, partners, lovers, co-adventurers. Life-ers. Thirty-one plus years. He’s worth it. Kevin and Angie. We go together.
Coffee? Same goes. You may call me a coffee snob, but I do enjoy Starbucks. We’ve had a rocky relationship, this company and this coffee drinker, and I do whine about their ridiculous prices and return bad drinks for correctly prepared ones. But that’s what partners in relationships do, right? We work on fixing things and put up with the negatives.
Friends. Ditto. I have the same friends from high school and college. I see some more than others, but it’s always the same. We are glad to visit, hang-out, share meals, giggle, and shop – whenever we meet face to face. I’m not going to trade them for a newer model just because we more mature friends have a few bumps, bruises, and sags. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to make new friends. I will add them to my collection.
Jesus. Once I decided He’s the One, I committed. It’s a long-term relationship, to eternity and beyond! Don’t need to window shop anymore. Just work on getting to know each other and enjoy the relationship and fellowship along the way. Hang out. Go on adventures. Chill and celebrate. Just like a marriage.
Family, cars, pets, clothes, hobbies, . . . Until we wear out and are reduced to rags or the engine burns up or the kitties get too old or my fingers get arthritis. Mine. Don’t worry. I’ll share.
I’m that kind of girl. Once I make a choice, I stick to it.
My honey and I surveying our new home. LOL. LOVE old wood. Photo by Angie Quantrell 2016
Three sets of 5 cards each, ready to be mailed to the winners! Congratulations!
Last week, I posted a slide show of some of my rubber stamped card creations. In order to have some fun and share my cards, I offered a set of 5 handmade cards to 3 guests who followed this blog and commented about their hobbies.
And the winners are:
Judith the Reader
Alyson
Marilyn
Thanks, friends! I will be contacting you soon to get your mailing address. I hope you enjoy sending the cards as much as I had fun making them.
A bientot!
Waiting is never easy, but manageable. (Photo by Angie Quantrell, 2016)
Stand – lean – patient forms.
Windblown tractor ride groupies.
Next in line, we wait.
– Haiku by Angie Quantrell
Bill’s Berry Farm tractor ride extravaganza, 2016 (Photo by Angie Quantrell, 2016)
See the little face?
Swimming amidst the wet sand.
Rocky bed for fish.
– Haiku and photo by Angie Quantrell
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Little Angie |
by Angie Quantrell @AngieQuantrell
Actually, it is 53 years – until my birthday in November. Why am I making myself older than I am???
A tiny baby girl was born 53 years ago. When that girl was married, she had 2 children, a boy and a girl. Neither resembled her. YES. She was there for the birth, so she knows they are hers.
Much later, the boy and girl both married their lifemates and produced wonderful grandchilden. None of which looked even the slightest bit like the Nana. Rather, they looked like mommy or daddy or this cousin or that one, or even aunties and uncles. No one resembled short little Nana.
Until now. Nana giggles and rubs her hands together with glee.
Little Autumn, the youngest princess, coming in at barely 3 months old, finally shows signs of having something in common with the Nana!
Autumn’s eyes look like Nana’s eyes. A family resemblance – how nice for me!
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Little Autumn and her Nana eyes! |
This Nana is happy with even the slightest hint of “she has my eyes.” I would be fine if she had Papa’s height and not my lack. Actually, I am very happy that she is healthy. A slight resemblance is just eye-cing on the cake. Wink, wink.
Yippee for grands.
Do your children resemble you? How about those grands?
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Just chatting with my Nana. |
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Safe and gorgeous |
By Angie Quantrell @AngieQuantrell
I harvested 8 pumpkins this morning.
It’s August.
Harvesting pumpkins in August just does not sound right. Especially when it will be around 90 later this afternoon.
Not right at all.
Extenuating circumstances encouraged me to wade deep in the bristly pumpkin patch and knee high grass to grasp my favorite orange fall buddies. Er, I mean, signs of the season. Sure, I talk to my pumpkins. And those dratted slugs and squash bugs. I do admit to speaking kindly to my pumpkin pals. Not so much with the vermin.
Doesn’t everyone talk to their plants and garden inhabitants? No? Hmmm.
Slugs. They were eating HOLES in my pumpkins! I rolled one large pumpkin over and a huge spotted slug, probably 3-4 inches long when stretched out, was coiled comfortably in the blossom end hollow. UGH. Tiny little slime booger slugs were creeping all over as well.
Odd. Spring. Weather. We had the weirdest spring. That is all I can blame on the extremely early crops. It was very warm, very hot, and then very cold. Plants in my area don’t know what to do. Except grow.
Squash bugs. I’ve been so busy packing up the house, I missed recognizing the sign of yellowed leaves that indicated I had extra special garden pest visitors. Why, those hungry little insects have moved right in!
Orange. These pumpkin babies were colorful and ready to visit my porch.
Snip, snip, tug, and off we went away from hungry mouths to the safety of shade and protection.
Fall (in August) here we come!
How is your garden growing this year?
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Hayden, 7, at Owens Beach, Pt. Defiance, WA. The gray? Rain. Sheets of. |
By Angie Quantrell @AngieQuantrell
When in Washington (the state), going to the beach may look different than going to the beach in other locations.
For instance, one may need to wear a winter hat at our beaches.
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Hayden, Audrey, and Khloe sporting layers, hats (including winter), and beach tools. |
Sweatshirts may be required.
You will get wet. With rain more than salt water.
Barnacles and tiny crabs abound.
Picnics are held under shelter. Or you eat wet food.
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Picnics under shelter keep the food dry. |
Seagulls will peck open unattended packages and ruin the cookies.
Sand will be discovered in odd and stayed-in-the-van-how-did-sand-get-there places.
You will bring too many things in order to plan for any type of weather.
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Gage, 1. The same beach and same age when Hayden first went to the beach. |
You will take home more than you bargained for. Some of those things will smell after a day or so.
Laundry and deep cleaning will be necessary once you get home.
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He who wanted to throw himself into the water. Or eat sand. It was hands-on-Gage for one adult at all times. |
Wet, cold, damp, briny kids smell just like that in the close confines of a van. Wet. Damp. Cold. Briny.
Umbrellas are often in use.
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Can you see the little feathery barnacles? The openings are ones that are feeding. |
One might wear a camera around the neck, but it will be covered with a plastic grocery bag that is tied tightly to keep out the rain. And sand. And stuff.
Water sandals are the perfect shoe. Waterproof and protective against stones.
Seals will wonder what you are doing. Bald eagles will soar, seagulls will annoy, ferries will pass, squirrels will steal, raccoons will beg, deer will graze.
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Looking at wildlife. |
Those dead looking rocks with barnacle crusts are not dead. Just put them in a bowl of ocean water and see what happens.
Strangers are kind. They may even bring a new crab specimen and seaweed clump for investigation.
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Our barnacle and crab observation project. |
On rainy days, you will mostly have the beach to yourself.
You can still get sunburned if it’s raining and cold.
If you want to go to the beach, go. Sunny or rainy, windy or stormy, the beach is a wonderful destination. Just know that our beaches will not resemble southern beaches (most of the time). The water will not be warm. Body extremities will turn blue. Noses will run.
But it will be the beach.
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The group – minus the photographer who quickly unwrapped the camera for a quick shot. |
Layer up, my dears. Or at least plan for a variety of beach weather. This is the life of Washington beaches.
