Imagine the Possibilities

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Story Challenge. Thanks to the co-authors of              Two Writing Teachers for creating this  supportive community.

I am not a great gardener or birder, but one of the best decisions I ever made was to keep a gardening journal. It helps me remember what I planted (and where), what worked or didn’t work, what birds are visiting. Today’s post is just a collection of thoughts I had yesterday as I walked through the backyard. The journal excerpts may help explain some of my thinking.

I walk the perimeter of the garden and notice. What is starting to show signs of life? What has survived the cruel March snow? What might change? I think and wonder…about some of the rebalancing that occurred last summer, about nature taking its course, about color and beauty and joy.

I’m confident that the peony bushes will once again burst forth this May in an abundance of pink and white blossoms.  5/17/16 – The peonies are bursting!

I worry that the house sparrows will take over the white bluebird house.  5/11/16 – Everything I have read indicates that house sparrows should not be allowed to live with blue birds or tree swallows as they are predators, but I feel conflicted. Might be best to let nature take its course.

I’m confident that the pink and purple tulips will bloom and join the yellow daffodils with the droopy heads.

I worry that the winterberry is lost. 5/6/16 – …I trekked out to Briar Rose for hanging baskets, geraniums, container plants. Best find of the day – winterberry!

I’m confident that the cardinals and chickadees and woodpeckers and finches will find places to nest and sing.

I worry that the bluebirds will not return. 5/19/16 – I peeked into the fancy house again today. I think the bluebird in there may be dead, but I know I must leave it alone.

I’m confident that there will be mulch to spread and weeds to pull and blue hydrangea blossoms to snip.

I worry that the tree swallows will not visit.

I’m confident that there will be surprises and celebrations and births and deaths, and I’m confident that the cycle of life will continue. 6/15/16 – The eggs in the bluebird house by the hydrangeas are gone, but the nest is still there. A bluebird was sitting on the box this morning, and a new bluebird nest has been started in the fancy house. Spotted the tree swallow this morning sitting on top of his box. They were swooping yesterday. Balance is being restored.

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Story Challenge. Thanks to the co-authors of              Two Writing Teachers for creating this  supportive community.

Last week I noticed that Kevin Hodgson over at Kevin’s Meandering Mind sometimes responds to a slice by lifting a line from it and creating a poem as his response. It reminded me of a technique Linda Reif suggests and often uses in presentations – lift a line from a poem or piece of prose and use it as is or let it speak to you in some way to give your writing a start. Yesterday Kevin wrote about how his neighborhood gets together as the final days of winter begin to wane to reconnect and celebrate spring. I lifted this line: We even helped an elderly neighbor, who has trouble walking, to the event… And then I remembered this:

Last fall I attended a weekend workshop on writing at the Highlights Foundation. A few days before the event I got a call from one of the organizers asking if I might be interested in giving another attendee a ride. “She doesn’t get around well and doesn’t drive, so she will have to take a bus unless she can get a ride, and I noticed you live in a neighboring town.” Of course I would take her. Thus began several phone calls back and forth with Jacqueline, my rider, which made me wonder just what I had gotten myself into. I picked her up at the agreed upon time along with her suitcases, canes, and walker. As we settled in to our three hour ride, I learned that Jacqueline, at 84 years of age, was a practicing marriage counselor (even though she herself had been divorced for about 40 years). I heard about her children and grandchildren, her experiences (she had just gotten home from a cruise!) and the children’s books she was working on. Her stories were delightful, as was she, and I marveled at her desire to create and try new things even as she got older and life got a little more difficult. By the time we reached our destination, I knew I had found a new friend.

The accommodations at Highlights are cabins and walkers do not really work well on the gravel paths. We decided that the canes would be better, but Jacqueline needed an arm to guide her. So every morning, before breakfast, I helped an elderly neighbor, who has trouble walking, to the event.

That weekend I learned a lot about writing, and so much more – persistence, patience, trust, and the importance of living life to its fullest.

Thank you, Kevin.

Thank you, Jacqueline.

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Story Challenge. Thanks to the co-authors of              Two Writing Teachers for creating this  supportive community.

I try to eat in a healthy way as much as possible. I watch my carbs and dairy intake, have green smoothies for breakfast several times a week, snack on almonds, and try to drink plenty of water. But last night when Allan suggested we try a new burger place that recently opened, I jumped at the opportunity not to have to cook.

Let’s go!

Smashburger is a step above fast food, but offers lots of choices so you can at least attempt to eat a healthy meal, or kid yourself into thinking that you are. You can choose the type of burger and bun you want and build your own creation with a variety of add-ons. I was excited to see that one of the options was a black bean burger, so I chose that on a multi-grain bun with spinach and their special sauce (not sure what was in it, but it tasted good). Allan and I shared an order of fries, and while this is not the healthiest of choices, they were a shoestring cut, tossed in olive oil, and flavored with rosemary and garlic. Different, so we decided to try them. I topped it off with a cup of iced green tea.

I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing until, on our way out, Allan said, “How about a trip to Rita’s on the way home?”

Busted.

Sometimes to just have to indulge.

(The mango gelati was delicious.)

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Story Challenge. Thanks to the co-authors of              Two Writing Teachers for creating this  supportive community.

A few slicers have used this format, so I thought I would give it a try. I jotted down numbers from 0 (instead of 1) to 10, then began brainstorming things that would fit. For some numbers I had lots of ideas, others were more challenging, so much so that I had to get a little creative as you will see.  And just to mix things up a bit, I started at ten and went backwards.

10        Number of books currently in my TBR pile. So many books, so little time.

9          +30 equals the number of years we have lived in our current house. So much for a                     starter home. It has changed a lot over the years – an added garage, an additional                    space that started as a patio, then became a screened porch, then became a sun                      room. And lots and lots of wallpaper and paint.

8          Number of cross-stitched pictures hanging on the wall. Years ago I loved to cross-                 stitch. Many are of Amish scenes with colorful quilts and boys in bright colored                       shirts. I also used to cross-stitch designs on my kids’ clothes – rainbows, musical                   instruments, animals, balloons.

7          Number of cars I have owned – a bright yellow Ford Pinto, a brown and tan sedan, a               blue Subaru Outback , a white Chrysler mini-van, my blue-green Nissan Altima with             my first ever sun roof (sigh), my first Honda CRV (red), and my second Honda CRV                 (Mountain Mist). Looking at the list you can tell where the kids started, and one                     thing is not like the others – a brown and tan sedan? Very 70’s.

6          Number of nieces I have. (I also have two nephews).

5          Number of months until Allan and I celebrate our 40^th anniversary with a trip to                     London and Ireland.

4          Number of people in my immediate family. This is also the number of people that                 were in my family growing up (I have one sister).

3          Number of full years I have been retired.

2          Number of children I have – the human kind, not the one with fur.

1          Number of times I’ve been married. I married my best friend, what could be better                 than that?

0          Number of times I have skydived. Enough said. While some of these numbers may                 change with the years, this one never will.

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Story Challenge. Thanks to the co-authors of              Two Writing Teachers for creating this  supportive community.

On the trail yesterday I spied a lone doe. I watched as she bent gracefully to sip from the small stream, then nibble a few chunks of grass emerging through the thawing earth. She lifted her head and observed her surroundings, sniffed the air to discover who was near. When she spotted me, we looked at each other for quite a while. Curious. Fascinated.

Sometimes Allan and I walk Cyrus on the trail together. It’s nice when we point out different things that we notice, things the other might have missed. We converse in quiet tones about our plans for the day, or the week, or who we think might make it to the final four. But we have different paces and places where we like to stop, so one of us is either slowing down or catching up it seems. Sometimes I like to walk alone, to get lost in my thoughts and not have to think about carrying on a conversation. I do a lot of thinking on the trail, and listening -to the sounds of nature or perhaps my most recent download from Overdrive.

Before long I spied the other deer, a group of about five on the other side of a small ridge. One spotted me and quickly came over to the one who was alone, as if to say, “Come on, it’s time to go. Time to play. There might be danger here.” The doe and I exchanged one final look, and then the group scampered up the hill and out of sight.

I think that doe and I have something in common. Sometimes it’s good to be alone.