Snow!

We had our first snow yesterday.  This is the view from my kitchen window.  The entire landscape was covered in soft white.  It is so beautiful….  I love it!  I have dreaming of a snowy landscape since we bought our house in Charlottesville.  I bought Dave a snow tube so we could slide down the hill in the backyard.

I’ve been waiting for the snow but it didn’t wait for me.  I am still in Florida.  This is the view I see….

 No snow here.  It’s sunny and 76.

No sliding down the hill, no snow angels.

I suppose I can go down to the pool to pass the time… hmmmm.

 

 

Morning Coffee with the Girls

I’m taking it easy this morning.  Yesterday morning Dave dutifully dispatched me to to the airport at 5:30 (although we really could have slept in another half hour) so I could catch my 7:00 flight to Charlotte.  Six hours later I was sitting in the Sarasota airport sipping a Freshens Smoothie with my Mom and Dad.

This morning I’m sipping coffee with Mom and my baby sister Barb, catching up on news and reminiscing about the past.  Barb and I are going to  take a walk down to the clubhouse to check out the gym equipment. That’s as far as we’ve got planned. . .

It’s nice to not have plans.

Looking Back – Un-Aging Gracefully

For the past few days, my Dad has been sending out photos from my childhood, which has resulted in my looking through my cache of old images, recalling happy days in my life when I really approached life as a child, not only because I was one but also because I have set a goal for myself to really approach my faith in God in that same childlike way.

Crazy Dinner in NJ

This is one of my favorite family photos.  We are not dressed for a portrait, nor are we posed, well, at least not in our most flattering light.  We are seated in “our spots” at the family dinner table, celebrating my 12th birthday. It wasn’t my birthday that the photo was to remember as much as the beautiful “castle” cake I had baked from a recipe in our Better Crocker Junior Cookbook. I’m not quite sure where my sister, Barb, got the rose in her teeth, but that is just one of those family mysteries.

We gathered as a family at that table in that tiny dining room every night for dinner for ten years until my family moved.  After that, we still sat at that table, just in a different dining room.  Family dinner time was sacred in our home.  If you were in the house at dinner time (and not contagiuos  you were expected to be there.  If you weren’t  there, you’d had to have an acceptable excuse. (Working, away at school, etc.)

At this humble table we learned the basics of social graces, not to cry over spilled milk (which happend frequently), negotiation skills (how much of this do I have to eat?)  and even some lessons in politics (after all, it was the 60’s).  Our table was a place of family bonding.  We shared the triumphs and defeats of the day and so many laughs.  My father kept us in order with my mother as XO.  When he was on the road, we’d gang up on poor Mom like a class with a substitute teacher which usually resulted in some zany behavior and even more laughs.

As a look through my life, I clearly see that I was born into privelege; not in the sense that my family held enormous weath or social ranking, because we did not.  Instead the privelege I received came from being surrounded by a large family who collectively have operated from an inner strength of value and purpose and a strong grounding in faith in God.  This type of privelege is precious and long lasting, spanning generations, with each generation looking to the past as a reminder of what can be accomplished with a good heart and hard work.  When I look back at the challenges my parents and grandparents faced, I can clearly see the pluck and self sacrifice it took to pass this birthright on to me.  I am both humbled and challenged to continue the chain unbroken onto my own children and grandchildren.

A Patch of Color

fter almost six weeks of patient waiting, our amaryllis has finally opened. It is a welcomed patch of color in this drab time of winter.  The trees are bare, there is no snow.   Yet inside our home this masterpiece blooms.

I know it’s not an original idea to view flower bulbs as little miracles.  How could they not be regarded as such?  They start out looking like a dried up onion that you would toss if you found it in your pantry.  Set it on some rocks, give it a little water and wait.  In this case, all I had to do was remove the vase from the box and add two thirds a cup of water – how precise!  And voila, my own little miracle.

I don’t know how long it will last.  I see signs of another small bud emerging from the bottom, but don’t know enough about them to know if that will bloom as well this time around.  I am content watching this bloom open little by little.

I’m thinking I must have quite a dull life to take such delight in one flower.  But that’s okay.  I have what I need.  What more could I want?

Thanksgiving Thoughts

Well the house is almost clean, the turkey is almost thawed and I’m planning on baking pies this afternoon.  In a few minutes I’m going to take a break and head off to the gym to pump up for the big finish of preparations.

Before I head out the door, I thought I’d just take a few minutes to express my gratitude for all the people who have contributed to the richness of my life…..

… for my parents.  I was fortunate to be born into a warm, loving, hard working family where I was nurtured and encouraged to develop my gifts and share them…

… for my husband.  Our start had some rocky moments, but in all my “prince charming” dreams I never could have imagined anyone who would suit me so perfectly…

… for my children.  Although not the cookie cutter soccer kids of their generation, Maggie and Andy have surpassed imaginary children my sister and I used to chat about at our tea parties…

… for my grandchildren.  What a wonderful surprise to have gained a whole family in the adoption process!

… for my extended family.  I have been blessed with such a diverse tribe of brothers, sisters, in-laws, and cousins which together form a crazy quilt of races, religions and nationalities singing in an imperfect harmony.

… for my friends.  There are so many of you!  I’ve moved around a lot and have always found kindred spirits along the way.  You are all so dear to me.

… for my four legged friends.  It’s been so wonderful to have something furry to cuddle – or not.

…. for the beauty of God’s creation.  I’ve listed this last, but it is so not the least.  I am thankful for the whole lot – the sun, rain and snow, seashore, mountains and deserts and so very grateful for the opportunities I’ve been given to see them all.

Thanks for listening to my gush.  May your Thanksgiving provide you not only nourishment for your body but also for your soul.

 

 

Exercising With Mom

I had my second session with Lorenzo, my personal trainer this morning.  He’s a pleasant man with a nice smile and positive coaching style but he finds the most challenging things for me to do!  So far his most effective means of torture has been this elastic band that I have to step into and strap around my ankles and then walk sideways up and back the length of the gym, all the while maintaining tension on the band.  Sounds easy enough huh?  It is a killer!  About one quarter of the way through my paces, my legs begin to burn.  It’s difficult to say just where it hurts the most because the pain is almost everywhere from my waist down.

This morning, as I was “feeling the burn” I thought of my Mom.  She had her second knee replacement surgery yesterday.  I spoke to her a bit this morning.  She was groggy and in pain.  We chatted for a short time and she compared the pain to what she experienced last year when she had her first surgery and remarked that it seemed much worse.  When I thought about the pain she is currently experiencing and the kind of PT she’ll be dealing with in the next four weeks or so,  I thought that maybe during my next few weeks with Lorenzo as exercising with Mom.  Maybe I can’t take on her pain for her, but I can certainly stop the whine on mine.

Fall!!

Fall is my favorite season.  I love the colors of the leaves; the yellows and reds and especially the vibrant waxy orange leaves that seem to project their own source of light.  I love the smell of the leaves, that dry musty smell that takes me back to my childhood like a time machine.   And, I love the sound the dried leaves make when I kick them or crush them under my feet.  I’ve looked down at my feet from the beginning of my memory, in velveteen oxfords, matte black rubbers, platformed shoes, heels and most recently, cross-trainers as they scatter leaves with every step.   Although the footwear has changed, that delightful sound of crispy leaves crunching under my feet remains a constant.

Last weekend Dave and I spent the weekend up in the mountains with our friends Mark and AJ.  I took my very first chair lift ride.  We glided over the autumn colored treetops with the hawks, the sun warming our faces in the nippy morning air.  It was glorious!  After taking two lifts up to the tops of the sky slopes, we hiked to the summit where we were rewarded by far reaching views of the Shenandoah Valley.  John Denver was right- it is almost heaven!

Yesterday, we took a trip up to the Skyline Drive with Dave and Vanya who’d come up for the weekend.  The leaves were a little past peak and the sun not as cooperative, but the vistas and views were still beautiful. It was Vanya’s first visit to the Blue Ridge and she said it reminded her of her home in Tasmania.  Funny how I never thought of fall being anything but a northern hemisphere sort of thing.  Vanya said they have the same change of leaves and fall, obviously,  as we’re enjoying our springtime here.   It might be fun to visit downunder sometime and experience fall twice in one year, but then I would miss some of the spring here.  Hmmm.

Spring is also my favorite season……..