A Celebration of Love, Learning and Life

pink roses and lilies 1.0

Fear, unfortunately, seems to be the most prevalent emotion these days. It’s contagious—even more so than COVID-19 (it’s precursor). It has poisoned so many of us and, as a result, it can be especially difficult to find reasons to celebrate, to be joyful, to be grateful.

The month of June, however, has given me multiple reasons to laugh, smile, and be appreciative of this life.

My husband and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary!

It’s a bit shocking that a whole year has passed since we said, “I do”. I’m not really certain where the time went….

Another significant milestone—one of my god-daughters turned seven! Thanks to social media and her creative parents, we were able to celebrate her special day despite social distancing restrictions. Again…I don’t know where the time went…. I feel like she was an infant just yesterday!

If there is a lesson in this, it’s that every, single moment is both fleeting and precious.

I have discovered yet another enriching way to spend my time. As many of you know, I love to learn. In addition to studying Norwegian via Duolingo (side-note: I just learned how to say “ain’t”. It made me laugh), I finally became a student member of the American Academy of Professional Coders (AAPC)! I am currently enrolled in Anatomy and Physiology. I have two months to complete this online course…and, then, it’s on to CPC training…and, eventually, certification. So much to do, but so much to look forward to!

As of late, another source of joy for me has been all of the babies in our yard.

We have at least three babies in this nest:

baby birds

At the time that this photograph was taken, the babies only had the suggestion of feathers and blended in well with the construction materials that their parents chose to build their nest with. Camouflage didn’t exist, however, when they were hungry. They’d stick their tiny necks out, beaks open, waiting for mommy and/or daddy to feed them.

Today, the three babies are fluffy-looking and approximately the size of their parents!

My absolute favorite baby, though, is Baby Bunny. How can you not fall instantly in love with her?

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Baby Bunny resides in the Pool Hole and enjoys hurdling over discarded pool noodles. She’s clearly a natural gymnast.

Although I have never had a rabbit for a pet, I have loved bunnies my entire life. When I was a child, my father built me a playhouse in our backyard. It had a shingled roof and flower boxes under the front windows. The porch became home to a kit of wild bunnies. We could watch their antics from the back door, not at all unlike today, at my house, where I can watch Teen Bunny’s bold moves.

Teen Bunny has no fear of the fenced-in backyard—or of Luna and Berkley who are frequently in it.

Partners

Luna (she’s the spotter) will bay when she spots Teen Bunny.

Luna in June

Berkley, a known bunny-grabber, will begin the chase.

Snuggly Berkley
Even Bunny-grabbers need to nap sometimes…. And isn’t he just adorable curled up in the blankets?

Teen Bunny’s only escape is to dive under the gate. Unfortunately, Teen Bunny doesn’t seem to learn from his close encounters with Berkley’s teeth. He will repeat this daredevilry multiple times a day.

teen bunny
Teen Bunny in the driveway…most likely contemplating his next high-stakes feat.

Indoors, I have my amazing Alderaan to be grateful for:

Alds and sunshine
I wish he’d let us brush him…imagine how dapper he’d be if he was properly groomed….

Another simple joy that I am so very appreciate of is the wildflowers in our yard. This one runs deep, too. Just ask my mom or dad—I have loved flowers since I was a tot. In fact, I was so in love with them that NO ONE was allowed to mow the lawn until I had combed through every square inch of it in order to pick the flowers.

This love for wildflowers, admittedly, does make mowing our yard difficult. I feel bad when I butcher red clover; I have purposely avoided mowing over the wild violets.

violet 1.2

The wildflowers framing the Pool Hole, however, are quite safe. There’s no way to physically (and safely) bring the mower to their location. There is, however, enough room to walk among them. I was able to take this picture while doing so:

stars and bells 1.1

A quiet moment among these flowers, gave me so much peace. So much awe for God’s creation. So much gratitude for the five senses.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here today. I hope that you, too, find ways to leave fear behind and embrace joy and gratitude. Celebrate life—the big things and the little—whenever you can. Sending prayers, love and light to you!

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

 

**It should be noted that, although I love the baby birds and bunnies a great deal, they truly tested my cardiac health this past weekend. My adrenaline levels peaked as a baby robin (from a couple nests down) decided to hang out on the back porch. Considering that the back porch is how Luna and Berkley go outside, this was the absolute, worst place to linger. Meanwhile, Baby Bunny decided to take a stroll down the back sidewalk. What was she thinking? Despite all of this unruliness, I’m still so very appreciative to have them in my life.

Fair Weather & Fun

fog and tractor
I am always enchanted by this view.

Earlier last week—before the heat wave—we had our windows on the first floor open, creating a cross breeze. Bird song filtered in through the screens. The wind chimes, on the front porch, played a whimsical tune.

It was inspiring.

Peaceful.

Restorative.

It was the kind of morning that lends itself to sitting on the back porch and listening to the world awaken. A red-winged black bird flew overhead, singing check, as is described by Cornell University’s TheCornellLab. A petite moth, wings whispering of pale blue, flitted by the back door.

It was from this vantage point that I noticed a couple of dandelions—gone to white, feathery seed—standing alongside the dark leaves of a Burberry bush.

Burberry Wishes

I found the contrast to be magical, and, of course, fodder for fiction.

And, then, there is the lonesome call of a rather leggy mourning dove, welcoming the twilight at the end of each day. Perhaps a youngster, he sits atop the garage’s chimney, cooing.

Not everything last week was calm. Fun, in this house, tends to get a little loud.

Inspired by David Portnoy, founder of Barstool Sports, my husband bought thirteen different frozen pizzas. Typically, Portnoy visits pizza parlors in whichever city he is in, sampling fresh pies. His slogan, “One bite, everybody knows the rules” is now a staple in our home. Due to COVID-19, Portnoy had to transition to tasting and scoring frozen pizzas.

A decent score on Barstool Sports’ scale (1-10, never whole/even numbers), can increase sales. Recognizing this, companies began to ship frozen pizzas (and other complimentary merchandise) to Portnoy to sample. The man is THAT influential. One good word, and he can make a small company flourish and websites crash (from his fans, who do not blush at his language, rushing to place online orders).

Back to our frozen pizza. Sampling several frozen pizzas was something that we could replicate for ourselves. Thus, the hubs purchased Celeste, Newman’s Own, Red Baron, PICS, Wild Mike’s, Stouffers, Tostitos, Elios, Digiorno (deep dish and rising crust) as well as a few others.

All thirteen pizzas were baked and sliced. A friend joined us for this pizza extravaganza. We sampled, “just one bite”, of each pizza. The conversation surrounding every bite was humorous.

“The sauce tastes like ketchup.”

“It’s stuck on the back of my teeth—like melted plastic.”

“The crust is too bready.”

We were so full by the end of the taste-test! The top scoring pizza was Red Baron (my husband’s favorite and, yes, the results were probably rigged) with a 6.5. My own favorite frozen pizza—goat cheese pizza—was not represented. It’s not the easiest pizza to find, nor do I know the name of the brand that produces it, but it is lovely!

Needless to say, our refrigerator was well-stocked, over-flowing, with pizza for DAYS.

My raised garden bed is full, too—with bright green seedlings!

There’s something breathtaking about watching green shoots poke their way through the earth, reaching for the sky, for the sun.

My lettuce and kale seedlings came up first, followed quickly by a perennial flower mix.

The carrots, poppies and zinnias are now represented in the raised bed as well.

carrots

It is at this point in sowing seeds, that I ran out of room.

What does one do with extra seed packets? Container garden!

There are various flower pots scattered around our lawn. Three of them were the containers that last summer’s Crimson Maple saplings came in. Now, they’re home to Serrano peppers (someday, maybe, they’ll sprout?), my gladiola bulbs and, finally, Shasta daisies.

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In late April we pulled two Burberry bushes from the front yard (using the Ram and a heavy-duty metal chain). Now, filling one of these vacancies are sunflower sprouts!

baby sunflowers

From muted-colored marbles to sprouted seeds, my peas are coming up:

peas
The peas are actually much bigger now; they really ‘popped up’ after the heat wave.

The beans have made their presence known, too:

beans
The beans grew exponentially, after the heat wave, as well.

And, while it might be awhile before my marigolds germinate, the petunias have popped through the soil of their hanging basket!

My rows of lavender, like the marigolds, will require some time to germinate. I am, however, still fascinated by their turquoise seeds.

I am in awe, too, of all of the wildflowers growing in our yard. The Pool Hole (not only the birds’ favorite dining spot) also harbors a flowering plant that I can’t identify. The flowers on this plant close during the day, forming bell-like shapes. At dusk, they open revealing white stars.

Their image is, in some ways, reminiscent of the poetic language of Song of Songs 2:11-13:

See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.

As written in the New International Version of the Holy Bible

The other wildflower that has me spellbound is bright yellow and resembles a buttercup. I believe, however, that because the stalk has so many leaves, it’s not my Great-grandmother’s favorite bloom.

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Although not a vine—nor wild—when the wind blows in a particular direction, it carries the intoxicating scent of the neighbors’ lilac bushes. Johnny Jump-Ups, undoubtedly descended from yesteryear’s hanging baskets, display vivid color in the odd nooks and crannies of our front lawn:

Johnny May 2020

Johnny is often accompanied by a shy, wild violet that is as profuse as it is elegant.

So much beauty, so much to learn from watching a seed transform into a plant, and so much pizza! Life is good, when we focus on the positive. And, I am so very thankful to still be here, to be able to soak up every moment and every bite of it.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for checking back in this week. I hope the days ahead bring you fair weather and fun. Plant something! Watch it grow! Eat a tremendous amount of pizza! I am sending prayers, love and light your way.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

Be Imaginative. Be Whimsical. Have Fun.

Hello again, Dear Readers!

In an effort to combat high anxiety levels and the general gravity of these days, I decided to write something a little different for this week’s blog post. I wanted to do something imaginative, whimsical, and fun.

Inspired by both the characters inhabiting our yard, as well as the words of this hymn:

All things bright and beautiful

All creatures great and small

All things wise and wonderful

The Lord God made them all.

– “All Things Bright and Beautiful”, by Cecil Frances and Martin Shaw as printed in The United Methodist Hymnal: Book of United Methodist Worship

I present to you the following short tales. It’s up to you, Dear Readers, to discern fact from fiction.

Freddy Finch’s Red Feathers

Freddy, although resembling the cedar hedges’ sparrows, is, in fact, not a sparrow. Sure, he wears a brown cap and coat—just like some of the sparrows do—but Freddy’s face and chest are a brilliant shade of red-orange.

The sparrows are acutely aware of these differences and sing unpleasant tunes both about and to Freddy. Some of these remarks are so hurtful, that Freddy’s face turns scarlet.

“Don’t listen to ‘em,” Freddy’s best friend, Henrietta, often tells him. “They’re sparrows. They’re a dime a dozen. You, Freddy, are unique.”

“I don’t want to be ‘unique’!” Freddy chirps, before flying away.

“Where are you going?!” Henrietta calls after him.

Freddy doesn’t answer.

He flies to the nearest telephone pole, clears his throat, and begins to sing. The tune is certainly a long one, but is full of loneliness.

“Hi, there.”

Freddy’s song ceases as he turns his attention to the newcomer. She is much larger than any bird that he has ever met, but also more beautiful. Her feathers are a mixture of taupe and creamy white. He counts the black spots on her wings.

“I’ve never heard a House Finch singing such a sad song,” she coos.

“I’m not a House Finch!” Freddy protests, “I’m a sparrow!”

The newcomer smiles. “Red-heads. They have such tempers!”

“Do not!”

The newcomer’s eyes darken with sadness. “Listen, my boy. We are each what we are. I am a mourning dove, which means my songs always sound as though my heart has been newly broken, as if I am calling out to some lost, loved one.”

Freddy sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you were the one singing every dusk and dawn.”

The dove’s long tail feathers ruffled in the breeze. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. Although my song is sad, it serves a purpose. I am a reminder of this truth, ‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted’.”

“Yeah,” Freddy murmured. “But…what can a House Finch do? What’s my purpose?”

“You have the ability to sing louder and longer songs than many other birds—longer, even, than a sparrow can.”

Freddy Finch

Freddy felt his beak opening in a smile. She was right! This mourning dove was right! He could sing—longer and louder than all of the sparrows that regularly dined at the Pool Hole!

“Thank you!” He gushed before breaking into a happier song.

A Bunny’s Thoughts

Having built her den beneath an outcropping of dirt and tall grass (not far from the Pool Hole), Mama Bunny is now only allotted short periods of time to eat. To shorten the length of these foraging expeditions, she runs. She is a blur of fawn-brown, racing around the perimeter of the dogs’ fence.

Sometimes, though, the hounds spot her. They think that it’s a game and begin to howl and growl. They chase after her, and Mama Bunny must run to the yard next door. It’s the nearest haven—and it’s green! So deliciously green!

Mama Bunny

“Did you see the beautiful seeds that Stephen brought to me this morning?” A sparrow, perched in the arms of a Norwegian maple asked.

Mama Bunny continued to nibble on tender clover, ignoring the nearby sparrows. Besides, the dogs were still barking and sniffing around the fence-line; she had other things to think about.  She would have to wait to return to the den.

“Yeah, well, last week Samuel brought me an oak bud. It was delightful!”

Mama Bunny’s ears twitched.

“How are your hatch-lings?” a third sparrow, new to the conversation, asked.

“Stephen–”

“Samuel–”

The two sparrows giggled before finishing each other’s sentence. “He’s keeping them warm!”

Mama Bunny stopped eating. What? She thought. Sparrow-men feed their mates and keep their hatch-lings warm?

The dogs had grown quiet.

Is it safe to travel? Mama Bunny mused. She sniffed; her ears twitched.

Finally! Mama Bunny cheered. They’ve gone inside!

Taking a few short hops away from the chatty sparrows, Mama Bunny paused to reflect upon the birds’ conversation. If all of that Sparrow-talk is true, she thought, Barry Bunny should be ashamed of himself! Food delivery? Shifts baby-sitting?

Mama Bunny felt her temperature rise. The last time she had been this angry, years ago now, there had been a fox sniffing around her den. Frightened for both herself and her kit, she did what her rabbit instincts told her to do—spare her babies from the teeth of a predator and kill them quickly herself.

Mama Bunny shuddered; it was an awful memory.

She took three, deep, calming breaths, running home as fast as she could.

The babes, apparently untroubled by the hounds’ baying, were sleeping peacefully. The rhythm of their calm breathing seeped into Mama Bunny’s veins.

Maybe I don’t have a helpful mate, she thought, and maybe I’m not proud of my past, but I do have these little loves.

Robin Curmudgeon

“I’m not afraid of Robin Curmudgeon!” Gavin the Grackle boasted. His feathers were glowing blue-green in the sunshine.

Georgia and Gracie, also grackles, looked at each other.

“I’m afraid of him,” Gracie confessed, “He’s always so fowl-tempered–”

“And fearless!” Georgia added.

“Oh, please,” Gavin mocked them, flapping his great, black wings. “So he looks exasperated all the time. Big deal.”

“It’s not just his facial expression,” the ladies said. “The Grapevine has it that those white feathers on his chest, are from grappling with King Greyson.”

Gavin screeched, indignant. “No one messes with King Greyson and lives to tell the tale! You’re making Curmudgeon sound like some sort of folk-hero. A legend. He’s just a tubby robin! I’d like to see him out-fly me.”

Georgia nudged Gracie with the tip of her wing, dark beak pointing across the Pool Hole.

“He’s here?!” Gracie clucked.

Georgia’s beak opened in a wide smile, “oh, Gavin. Would you like to test your wing-speed right now?”

“I don’t need to test it,” Gavin said, “I know that I’m the fastest bird in this yard.”

“Well, maybe you should ask Robin Curmudgeon about that.” Georgia suggested. “He’s right over there—perched on top of the patio pavers.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” Gavin said, before swooping down at the old robin.

The ladies watched as Gavin nearly collided with Curmudgeon. They held their breath, as Curmudgeon took flight.

“Help!” Gavin screeched. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

If Robin Curmudgeon heard Gavin’s apology, he ignored it. The robin mercilessly pursued the young grackle into the cedar hedge and beyond.

Robin Curmudgeon

“Whoa,” Gracie marveled. “That was intense.

“It’s like my Mama always said,” Georgia added, “‘When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.’”

“Where did she learn that?”

“From the Bible.”

“She could read?!” Gracie asked, her golden eyes growing wide.

“Gosh, no!” Georgia shrieked with laughter, “she liked to hang out at a church camp and listen to the services.”

“Oh.”

Sneaky Pete’s Twilight Trek

It doesn’t matter what day of the week it is.

He doesn’t care if it’s cloudy or cold.

Nor does it matter to Sneaky Pete if the traffic is loud and busy.

He has a twilight trek to take.

The trek starts near the old barn, skirts the edge of a garden and then meanders into a neglected field.

Sneaky Pete slinks through the tall grasses of the field, sure to be quiet in case a snack appears.

He pauses in the middle of the field, admiring the sunset on cloudless days. The sky shifts from robin’s egg blue, to lavender to magenta, to gray, and, then, finally to onyx. The shadows, moving as silently as he does, soon engulf him. His dark tiger stripes become one with the night.

Stars as small as pinpricks begin to shine.

Sneaky Pete

Thank you, Dear Readers, for allowing me to share these vignettes with you. I hope they encouraged you to smile, or, even better—to laugh. Sending good thoughts, prayers, light and love your way.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

 

Bible verse appearing in “Freddy Finch’s Red Feathers” was Matthew 5:4. Bible verse appearing in “Robin Curmudgeon” was Proverbs 11:2. Both were from the New International Version of the Holy Bible.

Love, Unfailing and Unconditional

April bird

One of the first things that I do every morning, is wash the dishes. I don’t rush to wash them all by the end of the day because a) I’m tired, b) the hubs will undoubtedly cook something when he gets home from work (and who can blame him for that? A man’s gotta eat!) and, c) the view out of the kitchen window in the morning is spectacular.

Sure, the immediate view is of the pool hole that the property’s previous owners left behind, but, if you look closer, you can see nature’s beauty and all of its vivacity.

blue jays

Plump robins perching on nearby fence posts seem to hint at hatch-lings to come. A rabbit rooting around, gathering great heaps of sun-bleached straw in her mouth, and then carrying it off, tells, once again, of new life.

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you.

And, then, there’s the bird song. The morning chorus is magnificent, joyous, and cheerful! These sights and sounds fill my heart with gratitude, with love. They’re a gift.

Even the snow showers that we recently received could not damper my feelings, nor could it silence the birds.

Although we are now in the second half of April, the was quite enchanting.

frosty window

It was also whimsical—as if we were now living in a snow globe. Spring will come, in due time.

What else can I share with you, Dear Readers?

Perhaps, the fact that I must start and drive Suby-Lou (our Subaru) every two days or the battery will need to be jumped? Maybe I should tell you that these drives have become adventures of sorts. On the most recent drive, I got lost. Like lost, lost. I had no idea where I was, hoping that the next intersection would bring me to the Military Turnpike.

Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life. ~Psalm 143: 8, as written in the New International Version of the Holy Bible

Before I had the realization that I was lost, though, I was enjoying the scenery. I have a soft spot for old farms and forgotten fields. New woods, and old forests. Leaning houses with fenced off side-yards, where draft horses lazily eat their supper.

I saw a red and white calf on the wrong side of a barbed-wire fence! I thought, Oh, how did you get there, little one?

Just a quarter mile down that same road, I saw a goat standing on the edge of someone’s driveway. No tether. No fence. No ambition to roam as it had found something palatable to chew on.

When I was younger, one of my goals was to own some goats. Pygmies make great companion animals. Saanens purportedly produce the best milk. There are other breeds, too, but honestly, who wouldn’t want a small, friendly goat? Can’t you just imagine the laughter and the endless smiles?

I have a lot of research to do before I can bring a goat home. In the meantime, I will cherish my time with these wonderful, fur babies:

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They make these “uncertain” days easier.

They give me focus.

A routine.

And, love—seemingly unconditional love.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here today. I do hope that each of you are doing as well as possible. I hope you are each safe, and healthy. Peace and blessings to you and yours.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

 

 

Bird’s Eye View (Or a Squirrel’s)

squirrel

I’m not going to write about COVID-19.

I know it’s not over.

I am aware that hiding from it is impossible. I am reminded of this every time that my husband returns home from his shift at the hospital. Despite the fact that he has changed and showered at work, I immediately sanitize everything that he touches. Because this is real…and terrifying.

I cried this morning.

Dear Readers, I need a break.

I need an opportunity to think, and write, about other subjects…so, here it is…eclectic moments from the past few weeks.

Gunpowder & Geese

It happened the last weekend in March.

I became a card-carrying member of a remote shooting range!

Do I like guns? I’m…well…still wary of them, even after my husband walked me through all of the safety precautions and procedures.

Am I a hunter? Absolutely not, and neither do I have any desire to become one.

gunpowder

Yet, in these “uncertain times”, with reports of shady characters lurking around residential areas, knowing how to handle a gun is probably not a bad skill to have.

I do hope, however, that it’s a skill that I will never have to use.

The day after we spent time at the shooting range, I could hear geese flying overhead. Flying North, flying home.

Healing & Hawks

Surprisingly, this time of forced “social distancing” and “isolation”, has gifted me with the time and the space to work on healing old wounds.

I am spending more and more time in the Bible and contemplating devotionals. I’ve been praying more. Singing more. I am in awe of this promise:

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

 – Isaiah 41:10, as written in the New International Version of the Holy Bible

I’ve even been taking the occasional nap—something that those who know me well, know that I never do! I’m trying to listen to my body more. Trying to give it the time and the rest that it needs when I’ve pushed myself too far and too hard.

It was after one of these naps that I looked outside, and saw these guys across the road:

hawks

At first glance, these two birds looked like plump, Bantam hens. But they’re not! If I hadn’t watched one of them circle before landing, I would have had no clue that they were hawks.

I said a quiet prayer of gratitude that Alderaan isn’t an outside cat. These two bruisers could easily carry my 11.5-pound boy away.

alds

Stories & Starlings

I stopped writing fiction nearly 8-months ago.

I was discouraged. Defeated. I had two unpublished novels just taking up space on various USB drives. I began to think that I wasn’t good enough, that my ideas were sub-par.

Then, I thought that maybe I was writing in the wrong genre…and began to research my options.

I needed a friendly nudge—permission, really—to write again.

That nudge came late last week when my Bone Marrow Donor and I were talking via a video call. Not only has this incredible woman given me a second chance at life, she’s given me the inspiration to start writing again.

This time, though, with all of the research that I’ve conducted, I will be taking the plunge into Christian Fiction. No, my chances of publication aren’t any better in the Christian market than they were in the Secular market. The Christian market has its own set of unique standards and criteria that will not be easy to meet.

Yet, I feel as though this is where I belong.

starlings

Perspective counts for so very much….

I audibly groaned when the starlings returned to our backyard in early March. I didn’t like them (not a Christian-like sentiment, right?). They’re mean birds, after all. And, their idea of singing is screeching! In some locales, starlings are considered to be an invasive species, as they reproduce in overwhelming numbers.

One day, I counted two-dozen starlings in the bare arms of our deciduous trees! Based solely on the cacophony echoing through our backyard, I’m fairly certain that there were quite a few more hiding out in the hedges.

Honestly, I didn’t like them.

There have been mornings in which I would have preferred a flock of Blue Jays’, and their piercing squawks, over the starlings’ shrill screams.

And, then, my perspective changed. I happened to see the starlings’ dark silhouettes against a twilight sky…and again against a cloudy sky…they were suddenly magical. Beautiful.

starlings 1.0

Well, Dear Readers, as you have witnessed, COVID-19 found multiple ways to sneak into this blog post. It’s okay, though. I feel better after writing all of this. I hope you feel better after reading it.

As always, thank you for your presence here. I am sending prayers, love and light YOUR way.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

March

Lion and lamb
Animal crackers…yum, yum

Do you feel it? The excitement in the air? The seasons are about to change!

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens….

The sun is shining, the sky is a beautiful shade of Robins’ egg blue, and the fur babies are all about finding sun puddles to nap in.

I can’t say with any real confidence that winter is over. It is March after all; an old-fashioned Nor’easter could still be in the cards. I have decided not to dwell on the possibility that we may experience one last snowstorm. Instead, I’m looking forward to taking notes on the amount of sunshine that each section of our yard receives. I’m anxious to get my hands dirty with potting soil. Bring on a dripping water can! Bring on bug spray and weeding! I’m ready to start gardening!

…a time to plant and a time to uproot….

My gardening day-dreams started late last month, when I found these in a local store:

seeds

The price was right—and since none of these veggies need to be started indoors before transplanting them outside—I scooped them up. I’ll be acquiring more seeds in the weeks ahead (something other than carrots and lettuce). I hope to plant bright flowers to attract pollinators. The first summer we lived in our house, potted, red geraniums lured hummingbirds to our porch. I would love to see them again this summer!

…a time to weep and a time to laugh….

Laughter is something that I’ve been indulging in lately. The early mornings are now filled with a cheery (and sometimes loud) “morning chorus”. It’s a simple joy, but birdsong makes me smile.

Our cedar hedge is alive with songbirds, but their singing stops abruptly, whenever I open the back door for Luna. She charges out into her yard—eyeing the hedge—somehow knowing that while the birdsong has ceased, the feather-frocked singers have not simply disappeared.

Luna looking out
This door isn’t dirty…that’s Luna’s artwork! She paints with her nose. She’d be devastated if I just wiped it all away….

It took six times of returning indoors and subsequently adventuring back out, before Luna could reconcile herself with the fact that the birds were not going to let her sniff or chase them.

…a time to search and a time to give up….

All of these signs of the coming spring, I think, are worth celebrating. Even the little things can be sources of joy and inspiration, if we let them.

A surprising addition to my seed collection arrived early last week, when I cut open a Pink Lady apple:

apple seeds

As a surprise, I wasn’t prepared for these little guys. I needed potting soil, containers to grow them in—but never fear! I was on my way to Target anyways to buy Tim Horton’s Coffee, and well, that impulse section was calling my name.

…a time to keep and a time to throw away… – Excerpts from Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, as written in the New International Version of the Holy Bible

I have grown a sapling from a sprouted apple seed before. The sapling didn’t survive for very long—only reaching about two inches in height—but it brought me such joy to simply watch it grow. It was inspiring to see how it broke through the rind of the seed, pushed through the soil, and reached toward the sunlight.

It reminds me of a hymn from my childhood:

In the bulb, there is a flower;

In the seed, an apple tree;

In cocoons, a hidden promise: butterflies will soon be free!

In the snow and cold of winter there’s a spring that waits to be,

Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

-As published in The United Methodist Hymnal: Book of United Methodist Worship, “Hymn of Promise” by Natalie Sleeth

This song is, without question, one of my favorite hymns. It’s hopeful. The tune itself is rather upbeat. It makes me believe that all of these things—flowers, apple trees, butterflies and spring—are on their way.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here today. I hope you are recovering from the time change (I know I’m still trying to adjust). May the sunshine lift your spirits. May it inspire you to create beautiful, spring-time and summer plans.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

Rain, Ice, Snow

backyard 1.0

All of nature knew that something was coming. The chipmunk—the one which insults the dogs on a daily basis—announced it with a long, shrill rattle. The birds, upon hearing this warning, disappeared into the evergreen depths of the cedar hedge.

When the weather reports confirmed that, yes, inclement weather was on its way, we humans set to work stocking our cupboards with non-perishable food. We bought gallon jugs of spring water. Rock salt was also a sought-after item.

My own journey to find candles (because we don’t have a generator, and if the power goes out, we’re going to need something to see by) led me to a small Christian Supply Store.

The store was bright, welcoming. Praise songs, played through hidden speakers, filled the air with cheerful music. The middle aisle, and three of the shop’s walls, were lined with various versions of the Bible, Daily Devotionals, and Christian Fiction. There was only one register and only one employee—an elderly lady with a lovely smile.

The grapevine had reported that the store sold reasonably-priced candles. There weren’t many candles available, save for some packages of Advent candles. I have always wanted my own Advent wreath! To say that I am enamored by these purple and pink candles is an understatement. They give life to childhood memories of Sunday services devoted to the coming of the Messiah. They fill my ears with Christmas carols. By their light, I am comforted.

 

lighted candle

I may have originally visited the store for candles, but I spent nearly 45-minutes browsing through the bookshelves. There were so many fascinating titles and beautiful covers. I’m a bookworm—I notice these things! And, really, can anyone expect a bookworm to pass up the opportunity to buy a book for $2? I came home with two books, two packages of Advent candles, and two (very) large white candles that are probably meant for the alter.

The eve of the icing event was spent filling every deep pot and bucket that we own with water.

water

The natural gas fireplace was turned on. All of the dishes were cleaned and the laundry hamper was emptied. No loose ends. Nothing left to do that required electricity. I went to bed with a flashlight on my bedside table. Berkley and Alderaan kept me warm while Luna, once again, claimed the spare bed as her own.

Fortunately, we made it through the night without losing power. We woke up to a world glistening with ice.

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The lead-line of Luna’s puppy-hood was encased with ice, completely unusable.

backyard

Our backyard, thankfully, is fenced in so that Luna and Berkley can run free. They didn’t do much running, as the icy lawn crunched, cracked and creaked underneath them.

There is beauty in ice-laden branches—but also great danger. I experienced my first Icestorm when I was in 5th grade. At first, it was magical. School was canceled on my birthday! But, then, the reality of life without electricity settled in. I discovered, rather quickly, that I liked light, daily showers, and toilets that flush. My day-dreams of living during the time of the “Little House on the Prairie” books, were quickly shattered—just like so many of the trees in my parents’ backyard.

As I write this—high noon on Sunday—we still have electricity. Should any additional ice or snow weigh down the power lines, we have water. We have candles. We have food.

We have each other.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here today. Your prayers, light and love mean so much to me. I hope, that those of you experiencing this weather phenomenon, are safe, warm, and well-fed.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

Creating Snow Flurries of Their Own

blue skies and birds
Winter birds perched on snowy boughs

I love watching snow fall—it’s magical, making everything new and bright. Autumn’s leaves that you never got around to raking? Can’t see them now! Withered perennials? Taking a much-deserved nap underneath a heavy, white blanket. Summer’s bunnies? Not gone! Easily found by following their tracks into the cedar hedge.

Although falling snow often takes my breath away with its beauty, I had forgotten how wonderful it is to play in! Thanks to Luna and Berkley, though, the exhilaration of snow days (and playing in the snow) has resurfaced.

Berkley, a southern gentleman from Texas, was not impressed with the snow:

In fact, he refused to leave the shelter of the porch. It took Luna several attempts to convince him that the snow is “really great”.

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Once on the ground, and with Luna leading the way, Berkley became a snow aficionado. The pair race each other, making snow flurries of their own. They’re swift and undeterred by the cold. Every once in a while, they slow down and regroup—usually in a joint effort to sniff out the resident chipmunk.

L&B on porch

All of the excitement that the snowy backyard offers, makes shepherding the pair back indoors difficult. When they do finally come inside, they’re exhausted, and quick to cuddle in whatever patch of sunshine that they can find.

nap in the sun

Alderaan may not play in the snow like his canine siblings, but he seemingly enjoys watching it fall from his warm perch beside the office window.

Aldie looking out window

Aldie concentrates on the snow flakes, as if trying to discern where they came from and how long they’ll stay. That is, when he’s not napping in my computer chair:

Alds in chair

I was not ready for winter to arrive so soon, Dear Readers, but I will make the best of it.

Christmas music playing? Check.

Lighting our natural gas fireplace? Check.

Snuggling on the couch with my pups while watching a Christmas movie? Yeah, we’ve done that—and we’ll keep doing that, until we run out of movies to watch!

As always, Dear Readers, thank you for your presence here today. Thank you for all of the prayers, love and light that you send my way. I hope you have a Luna, or a Berkley, in your life—to remind you of just how much fun the snow can be.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

Mindful Moments

Dear Readers,

It’s been two weeks since I last posted. And, again, so much has happened, is happening, and will happen. It’s in these moments of change and chaos, that I try to practice mindfulness. Being present in the moment, however, requires a firm intention. Will-power. And, usually, some form of healthy distraction involving at least one of the five senses.

This, Dear Readers, is what I would like to share today: a series of mindful moments.

Sight

I’m writing this paragraph on Thursday, October 3rd. It’s barely after 6 p.m. and the sun has already slipped away. Shadows have claimed the lawn; they can’t, however, dim the golden glow of the fallen leaves decorating the driveway. The leaves are still bright—collecting streetlight, porch-light.

fallen leaves in drive

Sound

While making this observation, I’m listening to Jamie Dupuis play the harp guitar on YouTube. Dupuis takes classic rock songs—and other iconic tunes (i.e. Greensleeves, Canon in D)—and plays them on his harp guitar. It’s beautiful. Inspiring. Calming.

Touch

Berkley, a Mamma’s boy for the moment, is snuggled up next to me. His fur is coarse, wiry, and yet comforting. Luna is nearby, too—in the recliner, silky fur glowing copper in the lamplight.

cuddles with Berkley

Smell

Not everything enfolding in any given moment is pleasant. The gold leaves, the music, the dogs’ presence—these things help me to center, to find peace after a stressful day. As I am writing this, though, Luna jumps down from the recliner with a fart. Yes. A fart. To put it mildly, some smells are not soothing. It was funny, though…and laughter is an effective medicine.

Taste

This paragraph comes from the chilly (and rainy) morning of October 4th. This morning’s coffee was a dark roast—a bit bitter—but great for keeping the cold at bay. I can see, through the kitchen window, that the wind is stronger today than it was yesterday. It’s stripping leaves from the trees and ruffling more than just a few feathers:

the flock

If you’re wondering why I’m focusing on mindfulness, self-care and self-soothing, it’s because I have been experiencing an uptake in anxiety. I still haven’t found a happy balance between my home and my work life. I’m waiting for the sense of newness to dissipate and become routine…but that takes time…which is difficult for an impatient person to deal with. Also, my PTSD has been worse, as it always is, whenever a doctor appointment draws near.

Burlington.

Boston.

Two days in a row of being poked, prodded, and hoping for good results. Do I expect bad news from either of these visits? No.

Yet, for me, as a cancer survivor, there is always this sense that nothing is safe or permanent.

Please, Dear Readers, send prayers, light and good thoughts. In Boston, I will be receiving two, live virus, vaccines. These are the first live virus vaccinations I will have had post-transplant. All of the previous pediatric immunizations have been deactivated viruses (which, with the exception of Shingrix, my immune system has handled well). I’m anxious about my system’s reaction to live viruses…which is probably normal…but, still, exhausting.

So, what will I do, to calm down? I’ll be mindful. Pray. Listen to more harp guitar. Thank God for those moments when I am able to sit, and snuggle, with my fur babies.

aldie & berk

Sight. Sound. Touch. Smell. Taste. Living mindfully, moment by moment.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here today. It means the world to me.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura

 

Not Humpty Dumpty

LP Iris and maple

A couple of weeks ago, I told you about my oncology follow-up appointment. It was at this visit that my oncologist said, “We did terrible things to you, and now it’s time to put Laura back together again.”. This declaration still resonates with me, still gives me hope that I can live a healthy, fulfilling, well-rounded life. It makes me believe that all of my broken pieces can be reassembled.

I equated myself to Humpty Dumpty in that blog post…and I shouldn’t have. Nursery Rhymes, Fairy Tales, they all have a melancholy, darker (usually forgotten) side to them.

According to Project Gutenberg (which shares literature that is out of copyright and now considered public domain!), the nursery rhyme featuring Humpty Dumpty goes something like this:

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the King’s horses

And all the King’s men

Cannot put Humpty together again.

The rhyme appears exactly as it did in childhood. The real surprise is that the rhyme is attached to a story, and appears at the end of that narrative.

In L. Frank Baum’s rendition of Mother Goose in Prose (illustrated by Maxfield Parrish), Humpty Dumpty is one of the twelve eggs laid by the cunning, Speckled Hen. To summarize/paraphrase, Mama Hen leaves the nest to grab a bite to eat, and, during her absence, her wily eggs begin to kick each other for more room. Humpty is, by far, the largest egg in the nest and he’s balancing on the edge of it. Thus, when his siblings start misbehaving, he’s pushed completely out of the nest. Fortunately, for Humpty, there’s a haystack below the nest.  He rolls down it, settling on the barn floor (in one-piece).

Humpty, on the barn floor, can see the world beyond the barn’s doors. It’s beautiful!

English Roseum New Growth

He wants to see it, so he saunters (my word, not Baum’s) across the barn floor. He meets another egg—from the Black Bantam’s nest—and they set off to explore the world together. Eventually, they arrive at a large, stone wall. They can’t climb the wall, but they find a hole to squeeze through.

garden door

On the other side of the wall, is the King’s castle, lush gardens, and a pond. The eggs want to visit the birds swimming in the pond, but they cross the road at an inopportune time. As they start walking across the road, the King and his men come riding through. Humpty is able to avoid injury, but his friend is slower, and is crushed by a horse. He sits by the roadside, mourning her death.

The princess finds Humpty and gives him a tour of the gardens and the majestic palace.

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When her father and his men return home, the princess takes Humpty to the top of the gates to watch the entourage’s arrival. Humpty, sitting in a groove in the stone wall, forgets where he is, leans forward to see more, and plummets to his death.

pink flowers

Back in the palace, the King is surrounded by his men—many of whom want to ask for the princess’s hand in marriage. The King senses that he’ll make enemies if he chooses a suitor, so he declares that the princess will only marry the man that can stump him with a riddle. Every man fails—except for the last one. The princess, when no one is paying attention, gives this young man the riddle of Humpty Dumpty. The king cannot guess who or what Humpty was, and so the princess and the young man are married. It’s a happy marriage, as the pair are already in love.

Baun’s tale concludes, “And thus did Humpty Dumpty, even in death, repay the kindness of the fair girl who had shown him such sights as an egg seldom sees.”.

pink flowers 1.0

So, Dear Readers, comparing myself to Humpty Dumpty, was a wildly, inaccurate analogy.

First, I am not a runaway egg.

Second, I did not fall off of a wall.

Third, I do not need all of the King’s horses and men to put me back together again.

I need God. Doctors. Counselors. My husband and our fur babies. Family. Friends. Healing is multifaceted, because we are complex creatures. Sure, you can extricate the cancer and stitch up the wounds—but it won’t heal the spiritual being, the emotional being.

And, that, restoring one’s soul and self-worth, might just be the hardest part of recovery.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here today. Please continue to send prayers, light and love. I am on the upswing—which is a relief—but there is still work to be finished and goals to be accomplished. Yes, it is a new chapter, but, as any reader or writer can tell you, every chapter has its own charms, problems, and plot twists. I’m hoping for only good things.

 

With Love & Gratitude,

Laura