Going through family photos last year, I snapped cell photos of the ones I wanted and this one takes me right back to our farm Kitchen, the heart of our home.
and Emjayandthem (C) photo
– The morning sun streaming in through sheer curtains trimmed in cheery yellow.
– The metal pail to the right, filled with garden tools and produce.
– A can of coffee and a tin of Raleigh salve atop the fridge.
– …. and our family rocking chair.
It’s where she sat restless kids or misbehavers, those who needed “time to think.”
It’s where she put us as she laced up shoes & boots, tied scarves and matched up mittens.
It’s where she placed items before heading to town – a baby gift, a dessert to drop at the rink, a bill to be paid.
It’s where she read to us – and where we learned that, reading to children, even before they can understand words, teaches them to associate books with love and affection.
She taught us there was always time for stories, for love and affection.
September is here ~ I’m delighted because it’s one of my favorite months!
I’m leaningin for:
A steady stream of sunny days
A significant drop in humidity (my hair approves!)
Stew simmering in the Crock pot
This morning the kitchen smells of savory meat, root vegetables and pepper
No fall candle can top that!
The start of College Football
Windows open, A/C off
Sweater weather returns
But we may need shorts & a hoodie in the same day!
Tracking Hurricane Dorian and scrolling through other news stories, this caught my attention:
When I was a girl, we ended up with a Pit Bull at our farm ~ one of Dad’s jockeys brought him to Canada from Louisiana, probably illegally. He was skinny and jumpy, tied up all day in the city. Brian brought him out in the spring when they broke horses and when he left, Butkus stayed. Filled out. Bulked up. He followed Dad everywhere ~ he snorted and drooled and intimidated everyone who pulled into the farm yard. But he was a big baby ~ a cuddle bear, he loved to play tug-o-war and lie on his back for belly scratches. The irony of his ruff & tuff exterior was that it was two “safe” dog breeds – an idiot neighbor’s Labrador & Dalmatian, who got to him. They fought, he lost; he crawled home where he died in my Dad’s arms. #therearenobaddogs
Now, I don’t want to end this post with you upset and sad, so I offer you this —
I was so looking forward to this day: a gathering at a friends’ lake house. A day of sunshine, water, good eats, laughter, camaraderie & pontoon rides. A day of good tunes, easy conversations, jet skis, sunblock and beach hair.
Like I do, I carefully planned the foods I’d bring, deciding on a fresh peach/blueberry cobbler & an appetizer dip. Hubbs and I eagerly anticipated the day, the forecast was perfect for a country ride “up” to the lake house, and the camaraderie we were soon to experience.
Arriving just after 1pm we set down the coolers and arranged chairs; food covered their kitchen counter and friends hugged hello, gathering around the patio table. Classic 70s rock playing in the background, a waterfall trickled softly and we savored the summer breeze off the lake.
Soon the Hostess asked if I was up for a ride on her “new” jet ski, the high powered one gleaming in the distance. “You bet,” I answered but “let’s visit first.” And so we did. When I offered how I didn’t bring my swimsuit andjust had a tee shirt & shorts she promised, “I won’t get you wet.” And I know she knows what she’s doing .. so I went with it.
As we strapped on life vests and headed to the dock, another couple joined the party – so soon came more greetings before climbing onto the Sea-do. Heading to the open water, with my pal driving and me holding tight, we navigated smaller waves until a time she could “open it up” – flying now – fast and tight, my hair whipping behind me, I caught a glimpse at the speedometer: 57mph. Shrieking, we leaned into a turn, jumped the wake left by a puttering pontoon boat, both of us rocketing forward and laughing our heads off. Hanging on, fully exhilarated, truly living.
Having an “it-doesn’t-get-better-than-this-moment,” and then some. 😀
Life is too short to sit on the shore!
We circled a few times then made our way back to the dock where friends gathered, men on the deck, ladies on chairs in the shallow water, waves lapping their calves. Coasting into shore, I commented on how good of a driver my friend is, and thanked her that I did not have one drop of water on me, amazing! We hopped off and waded towards shore, where the women gathered. With everyone watching, one gal commented “you went all that way and didn’t even get wet” and I nodded and smiled, about to compliment my friend on her excellent command of the machine. But before I could do so, that same woman reached down and, with both hands, doused me in water, from head to toe. Water soaked my hair, dripped down my sunglasses and face, top, shorts and underwear now completely drenched, with rivulets of water running down my legs. I stood there in shocked disbelief, having my own “Carrie” moment, trying to come to terms with what just happened.
What. The. ??? What’s wrong with you?
Stephen King’s 1970’s Horror classic, “Carrie”
Looking back, there’s a part of me that almost did what I’d always done: “take the high road” “turn the other cheek” and all that other passive bullsh*t I’d been preached to my whole life. The same words that always translated to justlie down, be quiet and take it.
And I might have done that until I saw another so-called friend laughing.
And that was it. That was the tipping point.
Shaking water off my sunglasses while simultaneously wiping it from my eyes I looked around at those who looked away, said nothing, and the splasher and that one “friend” laughing.
All at my expense. Nice.
I’m 5’2″ and the splasher well she’s 3 years younger and 4″ taller.
But it only took an second – I lunged at her with both hands, knocking her off her feet.
I’m petty sure she got air before landing in that lake sideways with a thud. Sputtering she got up yelling, flailing and swearing …. “I thought you were a nice girl” and my response was this, “I am. You started it. Want some more?”
Women backed off, clucked, fussed and did nothing.
Someone said “this feels like High School” and I answered “YEP it sure does, I hope you all remember who started it. Just keep it up and I’ll finish it!”
I probably should feel remorse …. but I don’t.
I probably should be embarrassed …. but I’m not.
I hit her with everything I’ve got and then some. And I’d do it again.
#Sorrynotsorry
Maybe when bullies decide they’re going to pick someone’s hide, they should consider who they’re picking: in my case, she picked a 50-something woman who’s had enough of immature jerks and is no longer going to lie down and take it.
And I have better insurance, too.
Gotta love me some TOWANDA!
Your turn:
When’s the last time you dealt with a bully?
What did you do?
In the situation described above, what would you have done if you were me?
Why?
If you ever retaliated against someone’s nastiness, how did leave you feeling?
I don’t feel great about it, but I don’t feel bad, either. 😀
This should be a national holiday .. with paid time off .. with cozy chairs and coffee/tea for anyone interested. 😀
I’ve written before of my love affair with books .. and it hearkens back to being a very young girl. Cozied up next to Mom while she read me a story, I remember the heat of her body on mine as I leaned in wide-eyed and wondering.
Mom took me for my first Library card before I started school and I still remember the joy felt filling the book bag up to the top, the weight of it necessitating a drag to the Oldsmobile. Sorting through my choices, the smells filling my senses, I lined my books up in order of priority.
I remember a similar thrill when the Book Fair came ’round each school year ~ bringing home the paper-thin order sheet and circling choices, then handing my list over for her review and approval. She always encouraged us to “read up,” and we discussed choices and our reasoning behind them. Looking back, I can see she favored intelligent choices and those fought hard for. And if you couldn’t defend it, you didn’t need it.
Another one of her life lessons right there!
And, as I’ve grown, books remain a comfort to me ~ a place I love to belong.
A summer read takes me back to our backyard canvas tent, reading my sister’s “Valley of the Dolls” or “Love Story” before moving on to “It” or “Roots” or other intriguing plots.
A winter read can transport me back under the covers of our shared girls’ bedroom, the weight of winter blankets cocooning me into a drowsy state of relaxation.
It’s National Book Lovers Day ~ but I’m celebrating all year long!
“A great book should leave you with many experiences, and slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading.” ― William Styron, Conversations with William Styron
Are you celebrating National Book Lovers Day with me?
If you’re a reader, who encouraged your love of reading?
It’s August already! Summer took forever to arrive and now it’s flying by .. “Back to School” supplies have been on store shelves since 4 seconds after the 4th. We’ll blink and Halloween will be here.
For me, the first half of the year flew by due to copious amounts of work travel, work schedule, work projects, work calls and … work.
One thing that’s saved me has been steadily indulging my passion: reading. I’m devouring books on planes and in hotel rooms; picking up more at bookstores in tiny towns as I pass through. I’ve lost count of the number read this summer … but it’s not about the number. It’s about the departure. Falling into a good book is like coming home.
Just finished. Delicious!
Recently I saw these words below and they resonated with me. Not just because I adore the fruits of summer … cherries, watermelon, and fresh peaches coming soon … but because, just like in life, we can’t feel our growth until the fruits begin to appear.
This recentarticleabout a suspected Rhino poacher who was trampled by Elephant(s) and then eaten by lions .. y-ouch!
It takes me back to working for a belligerent trophy-hunting executive years ago, the one whose African Safari journey ended in a big fat slice of Karma Pie.
this is what I imagine Karma pie to look like .. but maybe it’s chunky and hard to choke down?
She would not want this, she’d chide me, give me sh*t and push me to “get on with it, for Heavens sake.”
She’d even snort once or twice.
She in her cat-eye glasses and pedal pushers.
She.
All 100 lbs of her.
I miss her.
I long for our conversations.
I suppose I always will.
The depth. The breadth. The range.
The absurd, the large, the small, the swing of it all.
I see her face in little old ladies faces at the grocery story, except they don’t carry a red purse or possess the spunk she did.
You know what I miss most? Our friendship.
How lucky was I?
I know I should just “deal” and be grateful, and I am.
But her name was Gay, and she epitomized the word fierce.
Mom on Buck, an Emjayandthem (C) photo
And I miss her.
“The worst type of crying wasn’t the kind everyone could see–the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived. For people like me and Echo, our souls contained more scar tissue than life.” ― Katie McGarry, Pushing the Limits
Like much of the country, we’ve been smack in the middle of a winter storm for nearly a week and today, temperatures plummeted ~ Meteorologists are breathlessly reporting, “Polar Vortex, Arctic Chill and Extreme cold warnings!!” as the furnace hums steadily. I was up long before I needed to be but enjoyed puttering around the house in winter’s quiet.
Seeing the scroll of school, church and business closings last night I couldn’t help but remember my farm childhood and hearing two deliciously wonderful words at morning’s cusp, “SNOW DAY!” And my snowy memories inspired me to post these Random Snow Day Thoughts ~ here we go:
1 ) Growing up in the country farm kids like me had a “town” buddy in case severe weather came quickly. My town buddy was a classmate named Melanie Wright – her house was in the middle of the village. I’d estimate a walk there took less than 10 minutes but it sure felt longer to me. I recall spending the night once or twice, being fed and warm but also terribly homesick. I couldn’t have been more than 7 or 8. I think that’s Melanie in the sailor dress next to me (in the bow tie), front row.
This picture represents 2 grades; my grade was one of the largest with 11 kids.
We often had 3 grades sharing one room in our little brick schoolhouse ~ God Bless our teachers!
Class picture, an Emjayandthem (C) photo
2 ) Bitter blizzards and freezing winds take me right back to Mom’s kitchenwhere she, the 100lb dynamo, would stand at the door and make my siblings & I pull up our pant legs to give evidence of tights or long johns underneath. No negotiating, no exceptions, “don’teventryit.” She showed her love and care for us in a multitude of ways but the love I felt via a pants inspection lingers with me still. Man I miss her.
Mom & Sport, winter 1952-53. An Emjayandthem (C) photo
3 ) Being home since last Thursday I’ve leaned into my stack of books. Read 3, ordered 4 more, and plan on starting another tonight. Couldn’t. Be. Cozier.
“The world was hers for the reading.” – Betty Smith
Bucket List Goals: Trinity College Library in Dublin, Ireland
4 ) Our local news has been sharing heartwarming stories of folks stepping up to help others out of a snowy ditch, clearing sidewalks, checking on elderly neighbors and even rescuing dogs out in the (dangerous) cold. I have my own story to share: a situation arose late Monday that necessitated me making a quick trip to the office to pick up several (specialty) items ~ these were to be shipped to a colleague in another state. The request came Monday evening, in the midst of white-out conditions with winter warnings” all around. Pondering my next move, Hubbs made it easy, “I’ll take you.” Yes I could have driven myself but that wasn’t the point. Accompanied by his calm demeanor, fuzzy pants and snow boots, we set out the next day ~ roads were awful, snow-covered and icy. Visibility was maybe 12 feet. It was in that moment I was reminded of something Mom had always said: Romance is not always flowers and chocolates … it’s someone willing to lay down a brick for you, over and over and over again. And, as usual, she was right.
5 ) With 480+ area schools on an extended winter break, Schwartz Creek School Administrators in Clayton Township, Michigan got their “Snow Day” announcement just right ~ Hallelujah, indeed! 🙂
Is the 2019 Polar Vortex affecting you / your area?
At the cusp of a new year I like reflecting on the past one. I find it cathartic to look back at professional and personal accomplishments, lessons learned, and think about what’s working and what’s not.
I ask myself these 3 questions:
What do you want more of?
What do you want to get rid of?
What’s holding you back from either one?
And then I read this and smiled. Because, more than anything else this year, I showed up. Growth happened, some with growing pains. Manifestations abound; intuition sharpened.
It’s Friday and you know what that means ~ it’s time for my Random 5 Friday! Ready? Let’s go!
1 ) Christmas Treats: Made my first round of Christmas treats last weekend. Background: I bake & make Christmas treats in “rounds” to give Hubbs his “due” ~ it’s a strategy that seems to work because he gets his fill and if I make enough “rounds,” I end up with some treats left to share with others. Case in point: just the other night, he exclaimed, “No more fudge till Christmas!” (( Like I’m-a-gonna do this all again on Christmas Eve? … um No!)) But I ran into a quandary I hadn’t foreseen. See, we gave away our larger freezer a few years back so I don’t have an easy storage spot. I put on my thinking cap and …. Bingo! Problem solved:
Chocolate covered peanuts hidden in the crisper ~ He’ll never look there! (( Shhh don’t tell ))
2 ) Holiday traditions: When we moved to Hubb’s home state of Michigan 18 years ago it was his idea to throw a Christmas party and bring the extended family together. His eyes would mist over recalling the big family gatherings of his childhood. So, we started a small family party in our home that soon grew to a hall; we continued to host it annually for a dozen years or so; others in the family took it on for a few years and now, younger cousins have the lead. Regardless who hosts or plans, the workload to do it, during the busiest time of the year, is never insignificant. There are menus to plan, details to organize, a hall to book, decorations to buy or recycle, addresses to update, invitations to share and more. Just like in life, there’s always someone quick to point out what was missed or what wasn’t done. (Those same ones typically contribute nothing). Regardless of the snark, the tradition continues and the family comes together. Dishes are made involving 4 important Holiday food groups: cheese, chocolate, BBQ sauce and cool-whip. Little kid cousins get re-acquainted and run around together, red-faced and sweaty in their Christmas outfits, elders tell stories and for a while everyone slows down and lingers in the moment. And that’s what it’s all about, Charlie Brown!
Christmas time is here! An Emjayandthem (C) photo
3 ) Community: Stopped at my local (tiny) grocery store last night and, in the baking aisle, shared a conversation with Ray, the older stock boy man. Maybe it’s because I’m not from here and still long for a sense of community, I always make time to chat with him. I know he walks his dog in the mornings, before work, that he lost his wife years ago and alternates between tears and smiles when he speaks of her, and that his daughter makes him cookies all year-long. This is my small neighborhood store, not a big box chain. They don’t stock everything and yes, you pay a little more sometimes. But I like that bath soap isn’t 2 miles from the butter. And I love that the checkout clerks know me and I know them. In line to pay, I let a lady with a just a few items go ahead of me. She thanked me then commented, “I really like this store, it’s so calm here.” I smiled and I got it. And it hit me right then that perhaps my little community has manifested itself right before my very eyes.
“Community is a sign that love is possible in a materialistic world where people so often either ignore or fight each other. It is a sign that we don’t need a lot of money to be happy–in fact, the opposite.”
― Jean Vanier, Community And Growth
4 ) Family Photos: When our boys were little, it was easy to seat one on our laps and stand the other next to us for a family portrait. But now that everyone is older and there’s far more of us, family pictures are harder to come by. I enjoy the perfectly posed portraits on friends’ Facebook pages — the coordinating plaid, hair bows and Holly, littlest ones in Santa hats, bow ties, Christmas dresses, black patent leather shoes and white stockings. Somehow I know if we tried this today, we’d end up with something like this:
Truth!
5) Passing of a Giant – Like many of you, I watched the coverage of President George H.W. Bush’s funeral with rapt and tearful attention. It was stately. Poignant. Emotional. Respectful. Moving. Epic. So many moments, such long, long days for the family. So many tributes to his character, life and legacy. This picture though …
Together again
Your turn:
Do you also hide holiday treats?
Are there any Christmas traditions you’d like to share with us?
It’s the night before Thanksgiving … and all through the House, Not a spatula was stirring …
WHAT?
NO taking the day before off work to clean, cook, prep and repeat?
NO fridge stuffed with Cheese Balls, Salads, Cheesecake and Pie?
NO 10,000+ steps inside the house?
NO setting the alarm to shove the bird, ham and other delights into the oven?
2017 Thanksgiving eve’s Fridge – Cherry cheesecake, Mom’s Pineapple carrot salad, homemade cheese balls and more. an Emjayandthem(C) photo
Nope. Nada. None.
Today I went to the office, had time to stop for a coffee (gasp!) and worked a “normal” day.
No cutting out early to set tables, stock up on booze, clean the garage, wash crystal or defrost something.
Nope. Nada. None.
Why?
Oldest boy and his beautiful bride bought their first home earlier this year and, while walking through their gorgeous open concept kitchen/living room, I may have happily proclaimed, “WOW this is gonna be great for the Holidays!”
There might have been a skip in my step, not sure.
See, I’ve loved cooking and entertaining and fussing and decorating and providing for everyone all these years (32+ but who’s counting?) but do you know what I love even more?
That my big strapping handsome son loves it, too.
And so does his wife!
I love that he has some semblance of understanding what’s he’s in for and that they want to host Thanksgiving this year.
As the chief cook, cleaner and bottle washer, I couldn’t be PROUDER!
And neither could these two, although they’d never believe it was a MAN was stepping in to cook!
Grandma and Mom in the kitchen together; and Emjayandthem (C) photo
BREAKING NEWS: Are you sitting down?
This is the first family Holiday I haven’t hosted, cooked, cleaned for or done.
For at least 35 years.
Thirty. Five. Years.
Flash forward to tonight:
Hubbs and I are to bring a couple of side dishes, show up, mingle and BE GUESTS!
We may have done the dance of joy more than once tonight (he in his fuzzy pants and me in mine, prepping my 2 side dishes {done and in the fridge already!})
Her parents, Grandparents and brother are coming, too.
So is youngest boy and his fiance.
Their dog will be in the mix, too, and he and I are likely to be shooed out of the kitchen.
Can’t wait.
Hubbs and I toyed with the idea of (not really) being BAD guests, you know the ones .. they don’t bring what they said they would OR they show up late OR they bring other guests you don’t know OR all of the above!
But we won’t do that.
But we laughed hard at the thought of it.
“If we don’t change, we don’t grow. If we don’t grow, we aren’t really living.” ~ Gail Sheehy
Three and a half years ago I signed up for a women’s workshop across the state. Intuitively I was hoping for a positive experience and, looking back , I still am reaping the benefits.
Yes! Google.images.com
A two-hour drive there and back gave me time to prepare – and – time to reflect on all I’d learned.
I remember my nervous stomach lurching as I entered the Inn. Soon my worries fell away as the facilitator wrapped me in a warm embrace. Before long I was chatting with others and shyly stepping forward to share experiences.
One woman spoke to what we’ve all endured ~ the cattiness of other women.. and her fears about attending: would we be any different? Could we be trusted? She spoke of her losses and her triumphs and how those experiences had prepared her to be exactly where she was right now … and we found ourselves nodding in agreement. Church was in session and I was in the front pew!
Across from me sat Diane, a bubbly and energetic woman with very expressive hands – she patiently listened to everyone but when I asked her our table’s question: “what are you naturally good at” her eyes firmly met mine and she confidently said, “I’m very creative.” When women speak their truth, have you ever noticed body language shifts and they lean into the answer? I l-o-v-e that.
Well, flash forward a few years and today, a work event scheduled for tomorrow means I need to travel across the state today – to the same general area where the workshop was held.
We’ll hug and laugh and share our stories, updates and dreams and, for just a little while, we’ll savor being in the sacred space where friendship lives. And it very well may be accompanied by some chocolate.
“There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.” ― Linda Grayson
