Mother's Day is Coming

The last day of April, 2009, and I am thinking that May is going to be here complete with Mother's Day and birthdays in our family. When I wrote "So, You're Going To Have A Baby" I had not idea I would be lucky enough to catch the interest of my friend, Sharon Guinn. Actually, I was editing my stories when Sharon stopped by for a cup of tea. She asked to read one of the stories and started to laugh out loud and asked if she could illustrate them. Of course I said yes ....YES....please......as I said lucky. as you can see what a tremedous talent she has and how she made the stories come to life.

Remembering back that it took me eight years to have my first child and the trauma that went into learning how to be a mother set me to thinking that the young people of today could use a helping hand so I sat at my trusty computer and told stories of my five children and some of the adventures they lived through. The first child deserves a medal for surviving. The second one gets honorable mention for living through competition, the third deserves the French Legion Cross for surviving two older sisters, the fourth for not being 'one of the girls' as she was the baby girl and the fifth deserves all of the medals combined for surviving as the baby of the family. Each one could write stories that would set you into gales of laughter, but I think as parents we deserve at least a pat on the back for learning so many new lessons of life as our brood came along and developed into full grown adults. with tremendous talents all their own.

I had expectations that all five would marry young and produce many grandchildren . . . two is a good number. More about them at a later date.

So Mother's Day brings memories to mind that are the salvation of the soul when you are lucky enough to be able to observe the wonderful human beings that bring such love into life. I hope you are going to enjoy Mother's Day counting your blessings.

Imagination

The pictures are taken from a blog called, In(side)theLoop.com, in case you want to see more of the unbelievable photography of Will Steacy. The artist is Edgar Mueller from Germany, and he does unbelievable and mysterious art work, all, a joy to see. It made me think of imagination and how wonderful each of us has a brain filled with it. We can be sitting quietly, not thinking of anything in particular, when we see something that sets our imagination off, like a line of Pelicans flying in for the first of this season and we start imagining where they came from, where they will land, and if we will have the pleasure of their company for awhile. Or we can walk along the boardwalk and look at the small boats tied up waiting for their owners to untie them and take them out to sea. Our imagination kicks in and we can send them to exotic places or just out pass the bar for a short fishing trip. As for the photographer, if you go and see the blog you will see a variety of pictures he has taken in the dead of night and it will fire your imagination to heights you wont believe. City living is interesting and terrifying as the night people try to survive . . . or not.

On the other hand there are artists with imaginations that take us to the height of pleasure. We have to admire them as they use flora and fauna to create. Here on our beaches we have storms that bring in drift wood that fill the entire beach. It goes from a few small pieces to an entire beach filled with every size and shape of trees, trunks and branches that are thought to be a nuisance until some one, like the ladies above, use their imagination . . . look what they made. I wouldn't mind a couple of those lovely horses on my front lawn. I have seen baskets of wood made from the trees, so beautiful and so hard to describe. How blessed we are to have imagination and use it to create so much beauty in our world.

I hope you are creating something beautiful today and using your imagination.

The Day After The Yard Sale

I do not know the artist to give credit for the delightful cartoon I found on the computer today but it shows how Pat and I survived our colossal yearly yard sale. We both told stories of waking up at three a.m., having dreams of what was to come . . . up at five a.m., doors open by six thirty, first customer by seven a.m. and then the deluge began. For the better part of the day, with maybe a half hour restpite now and then . . . well time to straighten up the stock and realign the books, but rest was not to be had until we closed the doors at two p.m.

Some really nice folks came through those garage doors. We were told that we had one of the very best sales in town, clean, priced right, well marked and an open mind to wheeling and dealing. That was nice to hear but we also found that the more leave-way you gave to bargain the more the bargainer wanted. It is just human nature.

A lot of hard work goes into a yard sale, at least for us, as we clean, price and 'show' the wonderful treasures we have found over the years. There is never enough 'man' stuff though, as they look for tools, fishing gear and the like, but some are readers and they gravitate towards the books. I was in charge of the books this year so boxed them, had them all going in the right direction to read the authors and titles, only to find that people do not care if they are in order or not as they browse, read a bit, and choose the ones they want. My cry was " the more you buy the cheaper they are", and it worked. Some went off with bags filled to the brim. We have a few left which we will donate to the library sale.

Meanwhile Pat was inundated with groups buying all of those beautiful treasures she has such a good eye for. I think she was told that many times during the day. She lives with the special pieces and then changes out and goes on to something different. So many people have an eye for the 'old' pieces and light up when they see a bowl or a dish they love and want in their homes.

All in all it was a beautiful day. It was really enjoyable for the most part. There is always one, or two, who are not happy unless they ply their trade of walking off with some one piece they admire. It is sad to see and really stupid to 'steal' at a yard sale. So we let it go, chalk it up as it really is no big loss in money but it is in ethics and respect for a fellowman.

It is tiring, no doubt about it, but fun. I think Pat said, once again, "this is my last yard sale" . . . I agree. BUT, is it? Well at least until next time.

The Annual Yard Sale - City Wide

The picture you are looking at was painted by my friend, Sharon Guinn, when I needed a cover for my novel "The Estate Sale". It is perfect and now I am showing it off to you as we are in the midst of getting ready for THE yard sale of the year, the annual city wide yard sale when a hundred or more folks pull out all those magnificent unused, hidden, beautiful old pieces of china, unused mugs, dishes, collectibles and a few old chipped and cracked pieces of crockery . . . and oh books, table books, first editions, mysteries, some paper back, some hard back and oh so hard to part with. Daughter Pat and I have been working our butts off this week getting ready. Her garage looks like Macy's bargain basement. We have one more day of pricing and I am sure one or the other will find a few more choice pieces to add to the sale. This is just the start . . . tune in Sunday or Monday and I'll give you details of our Saturday Yard Sale.
Meanwhile take good care of YOU and if your close by plan on coming to the sale.

Jean's Home Gallery

As my children see me.

My walls are covered with pictures of all kinds. It really is like walking into a gallery and each one has a story to tell. The picture of the gaming lady was a gift from daughter Christine. I think she remembered my saying that when I retired I would be easy to find at a slot machine in a casino, probably in Reno.

The two beautiful mountain scenes were painted by an artist, Lucille Marsh, an illustrator of children's books back in the 1920's. We took these to the Antique Show in Reno but they were not able to tell us much about them, leaving us very disappointed as Pat had found a treasure when she found them at a yard sale. They are so well done that you feel you can walk into the scenes where there is silence, peace and serenity.

The flower picture was given to me by an old friend, Jo Morvai, who thought my work was primitive and wanted to add to my collection. It is beautiful, different in that it looks like melted crayons, although it is done in oils. The colors are magnificent. I no longer have pictures of the flowers I painted but believe me the kindergartners have no worries about my icebox art.

Old Don Quixote is a fighter of windmills, just like me.

I must have painted Lake Tahoe a hundred times and this is one of my favorites. I'd like to be up there today enjoying the sights and sounds on the Nevada side of this beautiful lake.

The old miner shack is a water color done by Nola Smith. This is the little house I talk about a lot. I lived in this house and loved it. It has lots of good memories. and lots of stories to tell.

I have more to show you, but this is enough for one day. Today is my day to go play "Chicken Foot" with my friends. A time to laugh out loud and compete for that little jar of nickles. So as the expression goes, "Go with God" and enjoy this beautiful day.

Sunday morning

Oh how flowers brighten a room, but more than that they brighten my soul. I give my daughter Christine a grand speech about appreciating her thoughtfulness when she sends me flowers and I know how costly they are, then I go on to tell her, I want her to put the money into a ticket or the gas tank and come to see me. How wonderful it would be to share some time with her. She is coming, in May, and that gives me something special to look forward to. She has promised not to send more flowers but didn't promise more visits, um. . . did I do something like shooting myself in the foot?

The yellow flowers were a gift from Pat to put into my garden, aren't they beautiful? Look like rays of sunshine. Now if I could remember the name of them I'd be able to put in one of those sticks so I'd remember it as it grows. The reddish ones are a begonia and belong to John. He was very surprised to receive flowers from his sister at Easter time. You know he had a grin from ear to ear for the unexpected gift. The pink ones were my boquet from Christine and they are of the begonia family along with palm fronds and ivy. I am going to try to put them in a large pot and see what develops as I have a special spot on the front porch that needs some beauty.

I wish I could send you all big bouquets of gorgeous flowers to brighten your soul and your rooms, know the thought is there. I hope you buy some seed packets and grow some lovely flowers in your garden. As for me, I'm going to plant these beauties in my garden, maybe you'll stop by and admire them.

Change

I was on a soap box yesterday, so thought I would change my attitude and write . . . about? . . . what? . . . Change . . . our lives are filled with changes.

Pat has a Honda Civic, a big change from the little blue RAV that she had for so long and did us so well. We had many an adventure before it was sold for local travel and the new car takes us on the road with better mileage and as much comfort. Hopefully on to new adventures.

The beautiful picture above reminded me of my visits to Auburn, California where my daughter Eileen lived for many years. I would catch a plane and ride out to visit from my home in Virginia. Every day of my visit we would pack my grandson into a new baby carrier and walk over to the park. There were stations for exercises that were fun to do, then the walk into this quiet area where the birds twittered and flew from tree limb to tree limb and the creek flowed with a song of its own. Ah, memories so sweet and sad as thirty years have gone like a whisper in time and Eileen left us to become a very beautiful star shining in the Universe, while my grandson, Mason, has grown to adulthood living a busy life of his own.

Having reached the Octogenarian age, I find so many changes, some good, some bad and some indifferent. My circle of friends is getting very small and some are having health problems that have made a change in their way of life. Change has meant finding a new down sized way of life, assisted living, leaving the familiar and slowly adjusting to a change they never knew existed. Not a sad time, just a different time and adjusting comes very slowly. Accepting change is the secret no one ever told us about and we all found changes in our lives worked out to be the very best as we grew and adapted quickly.

So I have changed my mood. The fog is burning off, I have laundry to fold, weeds waiting to be shaken from their roots and hopefully a ride in the new car later today . . . who knows we may go play a few pennies and eat a hamburger out for our dinner tonight. That isn't a change but the familiar is always fun. Make do with the changes in your life . . . enjoy them.

A Cartoon with a message

I received an e-mail today with cartoons and this one stuck out. How true. There is so much going on in our world, a war, young men and women giving their lives for reasons I have yet to understand. I will stand by each and every one of them for their bravery and for doing a job that is pushed on to them but I would love to know the whys and what is going on, but out media is racing to the next politically correct moment. The economy is a mess while the big shots vacation in their self made paradise and the media is stalking the crisis of a shooting, a hanging, a drama too horrible to hear while they ask "and how do you feel about?" . . . I'd like to tell them. I, like a million other Americans, are and have been part of what is called the silent majority . . . even passive agressive . . . whatever that means. We have said our piece. We have written our leaders and we get the message back in words they think we want to hear, but never a change or a result that would rectify a wrong doing on 'their' part in enacting a law that is unjust to the silent majority who are foolish enough to vote them in again. I don't see the media digging out the truths yet, but then I live in high hopes . . . what is the end of that adage? Oh yes, "die in despair." So I guess I didn't think the cartoon was funny. Did you?

Will Rogers and humor

A man with a passion for humor and lost to our world long before his time. I read a list of his sayings, on the e-mail, the other day and wished I had studied them to find some appropriate for the different moods we find ourselves in each day.

"There are three kinds of men, the ones who learn by observation, the rest of them have to pee on the electric fence and find out themselves." He must have been thinking of children who were born with a stubborn streak and no matter how much you cautioned them . . . they had to find out for themselves. I had a daughter like that . . . "Do not touch the stove it is hot" and she touched it then showed me the blister on her finger through her tears. . . and mine.

"Good judgement comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgement." Was he peeking in my windows ? . . . as friend Clarence would say, "Born too soon, wise too late." Yet, when it comes right down to it, each of us does the very best we can.

Today is one of those musing days. The nest is empty again so I have to decide if I am happy or sad; a little of both. I have been blessed with caring children who spend time with me and then get on with their own lives. They allow me a peek now and then as to what is going on, and that can go both ways. Presently Christine is three months into remodeling her kitchen, and the details are not funny when you have no kitchen to work in. She tells me there is light at the end of the tunnel but she would burn her house down before she would go through a remodeling job ever again . . . and the funny side is that all she had was three small leaks to fix . . . but . . . someone suggested 'why not' and the remodeling began. She is a survivor.

Son Michael is between snow flurries and no construction work until the weather changes; he hopes soon. He tells me he is keeping busy on the ranch where he lives and is working as a bouncer at a night club on weekends which does nothing for my sanity. My imagination works overtime, probably watching too much of one of my favorite TV show; "NCIS".

Pat is learning all about wild turkeys, even walked around with a little black box that mimics the female turkey and had a couple of the big birds come out of hiding . . . she wasn't happy.

And, it brings back the empty nest as John left for a mini vacation this morning. Now I have my TV back, no more howling stock shows; no more "Las Vegas" films, although I have to admit I enjoyed them all.

So I will end my musing and thankfully count my blessings. I think the sun is about to come out. I hope it is sunshine where you are and that you are having one of your best days yet. You deserve it.

Brookings Art Walk - Easter Saturday

Here in Brookings, on the second Saturday of every month, all of the artists and musicians set up in one of the Galleries, the Manly Art Center, and the Library, where the town folks can embrace the sight and sound of those graced with talent . What a way to spend a Saturday night; first Pat cooked up a delicious ling cod, with brown rice, fresh asparagus, and huge salad for our dinner. Sated, we drove over to the Library to hear Shirley Hyatt, one of the writers in the Chetco Writer's Group, place her violin under her chin, picked up the bow; and accompanied by Christy Dolan, a former concert pianist, the two played for a half an hour treating us with excerpts from Scheherazade; Rosamunde, Thais, Mazurka and finished off with three offerings from Porgy and Bess. I'm still humming. Christy played her solo, "Autumn Leaves" one of my favorites and she was simply marvelous. Ora Hess played the flute and the music was mesmerizing as she played Baroque & Blue; Irlandaise and ended with Veloce, all names that meant absolutely nothing to me, but once she started . . . I'm ready to listen to more of the intriguing music I heard tonight. I am still not good about taking pictures with my new camera and the few I took of Shirley playing her violin did not come out because the light was much too bright behind her. I finally got one of her talking with a guest. I wish I could have taken a picture of the featured artist but I settled for a couple of her pictures. The red rose was striking, so realistic you could reach out and pluck it. Her name is Erica Espilliant, (not sure of the spelling of her last name), such a talent, her work is outstanding and I'm sure we will see more of her work at future Art Walks.

They had a table full of cheese and crackers; bowls of fresh strawberries and cream, even some with sour cream, which, if I remember from my childhood, our good Jewish neighbors always served that way. Pat, is sitting at the far end of the room, waiting patiently to pick up a prize, she knew she was a winner because she had a picture of a bunny rabbit on her program, and she was right, she was the first winner. Now she has a big chocolate rabbit to eat Easter morning.

I don't know if you have Art Walks in your community, if not, get one started, what a lovely way to spend a couple of hours. Tomorrow is Easter Sunday, make it special, like you.

EASTER GREETINGS

I resurrected a poem that I wrote some time ago and hope you will find some Easter memories hidden in the lines.

The time has come at last

to give up the Lenten fast

this week is holy

filled with awesome sights

the blessing of the Holy Water

the Pascal candle to light

the purple colors of the penitent

change to glorious white

for HE has risen

our favorite acolyte

The dove of peace, serenity

the air is filled with song

choirs, organs,

church bells ring

for HE has come along.

The children dressed

in frocks of organdy

Mary Janes upon their feet

easter hats with flowers

gloves and purses that are neat

long pants, and ties

dressed up little men

waiting to slide down

and show their knees again

Colored eggs and chocolate bunnies

hide out in the grass

and soon the air is filled

with children knowing how to laugh

Easter ham, escalloped potatoes

baskets filled with chocolate

tied with ribbons true

jelly beans, candy eggs

a treat for me and you

HOPE YOUR EASTER IS BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL . . . JUST LIKE YOU.

Old Barns and Old Memories

I received a special e-mail from a friend today with pictures and a wonderful story about old barns which immediately brought to mind my painting days when I would go out with my camera and look for 'things' to paint. I dabbled in oils, until the fingers gave out. I was not the greatest painter of the century but I did a few passable pictures which hang on the walls of family and a few brave friends. I actually sold a couple of paintings so claimed the name of artist. The cowboy and his dog was painted some twenty years ago and given to our friend, Clarence who framed it using the old barn wood he had stored in his garage. He and his brother bought acreage in the high country of the Sierras and tore down an old barn and a shack or two on the property.

There was a road that ran below the Sierra mountain range in Washoe Valley where a few of the old ranches still exist to this day. One particular barn, very similar to the one in the picture, caught my imagination and I 'shot' it from every angle trying to catch its mystery. A huge tree was in front of it, much like the tree in the picture, and the sun would filter through the leaves creating shadows on the burnt ancient wood dappled in gray, black and russet as it leaned from its bouts with Nevada storms. I loved that old barn and wonder if it still stands. Next trip to Carson City, I will ride down the old road and look to see if this wondrous old relic is still around.

I thought you might like a rainbow and this is as close as I can get to send you one. So make a wish and brighten your day and know that I am thinking of you.

The Nevada I loved

This picture was taken by my son John, when he stopped at Echo Summit to catch a view of Lake Tahoe in the valley at the base of the mountains. It brings back so many memories of the years I lived in Nevada and the trips I shared with family members and friends.

You may hear some people say Nevada is ugly, brown, flood plains, earthquake country, arid, unfriendly . . . and I smile. We who lived in Nevada knew better but thought this was good, then they would not bother to move there.
Nevada is awesome, truly beautiful no matter what direction you choose to visit. I have written poetry to sing its praises and have pictures a calendar company would love to have.

I have pictures of myself with my children walking over by the Carson River watching the wild horses, then walking the pathways for exercise and having a picnic by the river.


My friend Helen would telephone and invite me to ride out with her for a picnic to visit a high mountain area near the California/Nevada border, where rivers overflowed, not their banks, but in moving water over huge rocks that sang the praises of the countryside. The noise the water makes is mesmerizing as it rushes and swirls around carving out a place all its own.

She would call when the wild flowers were blooming, and introduced me to Indian Paint Brush and a myriad of colorful wild flowers spread out over the meadow lands in the spring, enough to take your breath away.

One day we went south, took a mini vacation and visited the Lehman caves. Neither of us had been inside of a cave so it was with trepedation that we entered and walked down through the dim lit areas where the beautiful stalagmites hang like drops of crystals. On our way home we decided to follow a sign to a ghost town, only to find just a small sign at the bend of a road far into the base of the mountains. For awhile we thought we were lost and worried about finding the road leading to the highway we could see way off in the distance. We knew we were heading in the right direction but we didn't know if the road would be driveable. For a short while it was a horror but then we found a paved road and it led us out to where we needed to be. Helen loved her little Toyota and was not happy to have a ride through all the brambles and rocky road, but it was a happy face when she drove on the paved road back to civilizaton and not a scratch on her 'baby'.

One of my favorite trips was up into the California/Nevada pass. It is like standing on top of the world looking down into a verdant valley which emenated pure silence. It is a very special feeling to stand in the midst of fabulous scenery and 'hear' silence. The meadows, the winding roads, the huge almond shaded rocks and the wonderful variety of pines all contribute to our senses and the wonders of creation.

So Helen, my friend, if you are reading this today, I thank you for your friendship and for sharing Nevada with me. Time has made changes for our octogenarian years, but I am sure, like me, you are finding new and different views to enjoy. I think Nevada will always be very special in our hearts. . . just like you are.

The Mill Casino

The Mill Casino is located in Coos Bay where Pat and I use our points and reserve a room on the second floor facing the river. We stay in the older section, even though we have access to the new tower with it's ninety two rooms. Here we are familiar so we can open the window for fresh air and enjoy the sights and sounds as a huge boat goes by or the wind blows hard and the flags on the poles stand out straight. We find this inexpensive, fifty-five dollar room, (for two nights) furnished with comfortable beds; headboards made of tree limbs and the usual hotel chair and table, a small desk, a large TV within a cupboard, a lovely bath room with plenty of hot water and a supply of coffee and tea bags to use at our convenience. Not a bad place for a two day vacation to catch up on doctor appointments, shopping at the small mall or visiting antique shops and book stores.

We rode up the highway on a gray day, showers in and out but really not at all bad as we gave Pat's new ride a spin. A Honda Civic, battleship gray (I think that is what she said) rides smooth as silk and plays the same great music the little RAV did. We miss Ms.Blue, but it was time for her to go and now we have to break in "Gracie III" and will have to come up with some new ideas of where to go.

The pictures give you an idea of the Indian theme. Those outside posts are humongous. The walkway is a great exercise place and the windows are the dining area where we usually go for the early bird special . . . salmon, baked potatoe, salad, and this time an orange sponge cake to die for. One of the pictures with the fence posts should show a picture of a man walking on the water; no kidding; I have no idea how he was doing it, but moved like someone on snow skies. This person has come up with some clever way of moving on top of the water. We were fanscinated. I tried twice to get a picture but he was way off near the Islands.

The female pidgeon was fluffing her feathers and the males were trying hard to attract or attack her. The one closer almost got her but she managed to fluff him off. . . just like a woman, ha...ha.

He wasn't taking no for an answer and she wasn't saying yes . . . want to take a bet that lone ranger on the back side moved fast...

We played "The Wizard of Oz" game and had a ball. It really is fun to play. I didn't win any big jackpots but I did come home with almost all the money I took with me. So I'd say I'm a winner.

With or without a big win, I'd say with a family and friends like you, I certainly am a big winner.