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Spring Reflection

For the past several weeks we have been struggling in a choice for the perfect color to paint our bedroom.

Initially, we bought a couple of samples to provide a soothing background for our turquoise and brown bedspread.  We started with a soft grey and taupe.  Neither worked.

Our next step was to find a light turquoise that complemented the spread.  Two more samples; one too green, the other too much the same color.  More time passed.  Each time we had a new idea, we’d trot down to Lowe’s with a couple more sample pots of color and put it on the wall to ponder.

A couple of weeks ago, I was looking through a catalog and found a pretty quilt that I thought would solve our problem.  It was white with splashes of spring flowers and foliage.  We could easily pick out one of the flower colors with a quilt like that on our bed, so I ordered it.

The new quilt arrived and I spread it atop my bed full of hope that one of the colors on the wall would work.  Naturally, none did.  So, off to Lowe’s we went with a new pillow sham in hand in search of the perfect color.  We came home with a sample of what we believed to be the perfect green yellow.  Once on the wall to transformed into an electric green that was anything but soothing.  Back I went to Lowes and home I came with two pale yellows.  Again I was convinced, I’d picked the winner.

The yellows were better.  I put large splotches of each on the walls to help decide which was best.  After about a week, I’d decided and convinced Dave that the lighter of the two was “our color”.

As the days passed and I looked at my lighter patch, I became disillusioned with my yellow.  It seemed flat.

Yesterday I took my sham back to Lowes for one last try with the greens.  I came home with only one, a light leafy green that looked right under all the lighting samples.  Even the gal who mixed the sample was sure this one was it.

Without even changing from my gym clothes, I got out my mini roller and began to cover the yellow with my new color.  It looked pretty good.  I tried another area of the room.  It looked good there as well.

This morning as I opened my eyes, I gazed across at my new burst of green on the wall and decided this new color, “Spring Reflection”, was indeed the perfect color.  All I need now is to find the time to transform my entire room.  Until then, I’ll be reflecting on the possibilities.

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Babe in Arms

Yesterday afternoon at choir practice (yes, I  went to choir practice) I had the pleasure of holding a four week old baby girl while her grandmother played the keyboard.

When I arrived, she was sitting in her car seat, sort of awake and a little fussy.  It was pretty warm in the church and she was dressed in a terry sleeper and covered with a receiving blanket.  My first thought was that she was uncomfortable in her seat so I uncovered her and began to rock her seat.

That worked for a while until she began to wiggle and really fuss so I seized the opportunity – carpe diem – and picked her up.  After all, we couldn’t have her disturbing her grandmother while she was accompanying the choir in Triduum and Easter music prep now could we?

I admit I am a known baby lover.  If there is an infant anywhere near me, my attention will hone in like radar.  I love talking to them and watching their tiny faces scrunch in thoughtful contemplation of my voice.  They are great listeners – when they are not crying.

This baby, Lydia, was special.  The shape of her face and the mop of dark hair reminded me so much of Maggie when she was that age.  At four weeks her body had not yet full unfolded, with her knees tucked in semi fetal position.  She was a solid child, with good muscle control.  I felt such peace as I rocked her, looking into her little face and watching her designer print NUK move up and down and she worked it.  I could have held the dozing baby in my arms indefinitely.

After about half and hour or so her mother arrived.  I dutifully handed her over and gave a full report of why I had her since she didn’t know me.  Once in her mother’s arms, she stirred slowly and lazily opened her eyes.  Her mother cooed and recognizing the voice, Lydia cooed back in a special intimate way.  I’d forgotten that detail from my own babies’ lives; how they would react with special sounds reserved only for me when I’d pick them up.

I thanked Lydia’s mommy for letting me spend the time with her.  It was so special to revisit my own days of early motherhood.  Those days were precious even with the sleep deprivation and piles of laundry.  I’m not saying I’d care to go back, or God forbid raise another child, but to just have the chance to feel the familiar bundle in my arms and see the face of a sleeping infant was a treasure I’ll not soon forget.

 

 

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Living Green

This first spring in our new home has been a busy one.  Dave and I have begun the work of transforming our yard into our own personal paradise.  Whenever we have a few moment and the weather cooperates, we’re in the back, diggin up sod, shifting rocks, weeding and dreaming of our finished garden.

We’ve done this before.  When we moved into our last house in 2005, our back yard was boring.  The previous owners had four small children and two dogs.  Gardening was not high on their priority list.

We had a shady patch of grass with a couple of mature trees, all surrounded by a cedar fence.  As always, Dave had a vision and in five short years, with hours of labor and sweat,  we had transformed our bland patch of green into a beautiful garden with plenty of color and life.

This time of year especially, I’d love to take my morning coffee out into the yard and make my rounds from bed to bed, looking for the daily changes.   One morning there would be a new shoot of green popping up through the mulch; the next day I’d find a new bud or even flower. Our garden was exciting and energizing.  It is the one thing I really miss about my old house.

Our new yard is not the blank slate our old one was. There is plenty already here.

Almost half of the back is wooded with mature oaks, cedars, maples, pine trees and even a dogwood and carpeted with fallen leaves and acorns.   Unlike our flat coastal plain yard in Virginia Beach, here in the Piedmont, our yard has a slope which is both beautiful to behold and challenging to mow.  Because of this, we are departing from the goals of  former settlers who cleared the land to plant lawns and fields. Instead, we have decided to  systematically increase the size of our wooded and natural area to decrease the amount of mowing.  I could fib and declare we are doing it to save fossil fuel as a commitment to green living  but in reality our goal is to save our own time and energy!

I do love my new yard.  It is one of the things I love the most about my new home.  I will even love it more once the digging is done and the planting begins.  I’m anxious to see the little green shoots popping up from the mulch.

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Laundry Daze

Last Monday morning I was surrounded by a pile of dirty clothes and bed linens in preparation for weekend guests when I received a text from my friend Sarah.

“I’m at my folks and heading home tomorrow.  How about if I stop by for a visit?”

“Hell yah!”  I shot back.

“OK, see you tomorrow!”

Sarah is one of my dearest friends.  We started working at First Command (then USPA/IRA) within a couple of months of each other back in 1998.  While there we graduated our children from high school and college, endured Navy widowhood while our husbands were deployed and shared all the assorted other stuff associated with both office life and home life.  Though the years we’ve become comfortable friends, able to go long periods without contact, but picking up and continuing when we are lucky enough to have our paths cross.

Last spring, after I stopped working, Sarah and I were able to spend more time together, exploring knitting shops, grabbing a bite of lunch or just enjoying a cup of coffee on her back deck.  We share a love of nature; flora and fauna, wine and knitting, in about that order.  I love the sound of her laugh so often poke fun at her to get her going.  Since my move, the phone has been our only source of conversation.  Just last week I realized I hadn’t spoken to her since before the holidays.

Addressing my pile of laundry became more urgent.  Vacuuming and dusting we also added to the “to do” list along with the bathrooms.  A week’s worth of housework had to be condensed down to one day.  I hit the gas and got moving.  Then the phone rang….

It was my friend Kim.  We met on the way home after dropping our kids off for their first day of school at Mililani Waena in Hawaii.  Our husbands’ military tours on Oahu overlapped almost completely giving us three years to pal around and explore together.  Andy and her oldest son Josh became friends and our families both attended St. John the Apostle and Evangelist RC  church.  Kim invited me to join her on several Marine Corps OWC outings which were all great fun.  At the end of our tours, they were off to Okinawa and we headed to the DC area.

About six years later, we were settled in Virginia Beach, when Kim’s husband Jeff received orders to Norfolk.  Those years were choked with work, teen drama and heavy church commitments so we mostly saw each other at church or at the odd lunch to catch up.  After a couple of years, Jeff received orders again and they were gone.

We reconnected several years later when we had a trip planned to Fredericksburg to attend a wedding reception.  As it turned out, the bride’s parents lived on the same street as Kim and Jeff.  I gave her a call to see if we could get together at some point during the weekend and she invited us to spend the weekend with them.  Again, they are the kind of friends you can just pick up with where you left off and enjoy.

Back to the phone call…

“I’m catching up on my Christmas card calls.” she said, “You probably think I’m horrible for not sending you one after you send me one.”

“Did I send you one?” I asked, “I was so confused when my cards went out I couldn’t remember who I sent them to.”

“Since we live so close, we should get together again, maybe meet somewhere half way for lunch….”

Half an hour later, having caught up on the highlights of the past couple years, I hung up with the promise that we would indeed get together in the next few weeks for a lunch or maybe even dinner with the guys.

Friendship is such a treasure.  I sincerely love that my friends feel free to burst into my life when the notion suits them, like the sun bursting through the clouds after a cloudy day. The laundry and dust will always be with me, while the time I am gifted to spend with my friends will not.

Speaking of laundry, I have to switch loads.  I hope the phone rings!

 

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The Mystery of the Ticking Sink

A mystery was solved this weekend.  Almost since moving in I have occasionally heard a muffled ticking or dripping sound near the kitchen sink.  The sound has been measured, like the ever present ticking of our LaniMoo clock prompting me to use my elementary skills of the scientific method to discover the source of the sound.

Since the location was close to the sink, my first thought was a slow drain.  I tried running hot tap water down both drains, running the garbage disposal and for good measure dumped half a bottle of Liquid Plumber down the drain.  The dripping sound continued.

I checked under the sink for leaks with my little mag-lite in hand, feeling much like CSI Monica looking for clues or leaks in my plumbing.  The cabinet was dry and quiet, no ticking there.

Remembering that the dripping from a clogged downspout at our old house sometimes made a similar “drip/tick” sound, I went outside to investigate.  There were no downspouts outside the window by the sink. No ticking out there either.

Weeks went by and I became aware that I only seemed to hear the tick/drip in the late afternoon when I went into the kitchen to begin dinner preparations.  There seemed to be no reason for the afternoon specific noise.  Having found no compelling disaster related cause, I did what any sane homeowner would do; I ignored it.

This past Saturday afternoon, when I went out to the kitchen to make some tea, the tick/drip again caught my attention.  I decided to give investigation one more shot.  Putting my good ear in the direction of the sound, I attempted to isolate its exact location.  The rhythm was so very precise, like a clock or metronome.  Again, the sink seemed to be the source, but when I bent down to check underneath, the sound grew fainter.  No, it was the sink.  I listened more intently.  The sound was from the sink but not the drain.  What could it be?  Then I looked up and saw her smiling at me.

SAMSUNG

It was Queen Elizabeth II, regally perched on my window sill, purse on her elbow, her right hand in a perpetual royal wave.  She was a gift from my friend Carol to commemorate our trip to the UK in 2010.  Not only does she appear to wave, but a tiny solar panel on the top of her purse  powers an internal clockwork causing her to wave when the sun hits it just right. Further investigation revealed that her hand had become detached from the clockwork so when the sun hit her purse, her movements sprang into precise motion, but her hand remained still. The mystery of the tick/drip sound by the sink has been solved. The Queen’s dislocated hand has been reset and now instead of dreading sunny afternoons and the annoying ticking, we can look forward to her regal wave.

Isn’t it amazing how something so frustrating can turn into a funny little story and a chuckle?  We are so amused!

 

 

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Reblooming

Remember my Amaryllis that bloomed in early in January? When its blooms began to droop, I stuck in in the corner to allow the plant to die back.  When the time was right, my plan was to plant it in the yard.

When I got back from Florida a couple of weeks ago, I noticed that the little sprout you can see down by the base of the bulb had grown into a stalk taller than the first, full of buds.

This week, three months later, it has begun to bloom in a splendor that overshadows the first flower which is still there, withered and dry.

As I begin the journey into myself to discover my Life-Keys, I wonder if my second blooming will be brighter than my first.

Some days I feel withered and dry, waiting for the next me to emerge and bloom.

These things, I’m learning, happen when I least expect them.  There needs to be quiet time, as if set in a corner to rest.

Since moving here I’ve been in the corner for seven months.  I’m ready for new possibilities.

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A Day of Journeying

This morning as I was drinking my coffee, listening to Into the Woods, my thoughts drifting along with the music, I realized yesterday was a day of journeys for me, highlighted by where I’ve been, where I am and where I’m going.  How is it that a day can be so randomly constructed?

Where I’ve Been… Journal Journeying – After months of putting it off, I finally cracked open the journal I kept during our trip to the UK in 2010 to do what I’ve been saying I would do for more than a year – transcribe the data and capture images from the Internet to replace the photos we didn’t get to take after our camera broke.  I only got through the first two days and already have four typed pages with photos added.  My plan was to get the whole thing transcribed and give it to Dave as a gift.  I’m finding my fatigue played a big part in my writing ability on the road, so editing is needed but the rough story is there and I’m enjoying the look back and searching for pictures on the web.

Where I am….Content to Be…  I went on an errand run all myself.  This was special because I get so little alone time since Andy moved back in.  While he’s not intentionally intrusive or disrespectful of my space, he’s just here.  I guess I’ve become accustomed to having the house to myself during the day. And, since he’s always up for an adventure, it’s been easy to get him to come along when I go somewhere, so I don’t have tobe alone.  My concern has been that I will become dependent on the company and fall back into old habits that make me fearful of venturing out the door by myself.  So, I made a short trip to the Mall, stopped by Lowe’s for paint samples and then popped into Kroger for some groceries.  It was as exciting as a trip to the UK, but it was important in maintaining my independence.

Where I’m going….on to the Unknown Known…..Early in quiet of the morning I made the first steps into a self-assessment program called “Life-Keys”.  With my friend Deb leading me, this journey will be to help me sort out what I can do from what I love to do, to discern my God given gifts which give me energy from the skills I’ve learned that drain me.  At the end fo this journey I’m hoping to have a better sense of direction so I can choose what I want to do with the rest of my life opposed to just reacting to what comes my way.

So, is it just a coincidence that I’ve connected these three journeys from one day or am I like the fellow in “A Beautiful Mind”, finding meaning in totally unrelated events?  I’d like to think there is a plan.  In the next few weeks I hope to make more connections, finding the key pieces to the puzzle that is me.

 

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Snow!

Last week several area school boards decided to add this year’s unused snow days onto the upcoming spring and summer breaks.  In an ironic twist of fate, Mother Nature decided to start dusting the ground with the white stuff just as the school buses began to roll this morning.  Ninety minutes later, the ground and streets are covered, schools have delayed their opening for two hours and I am positioned across from the French doors watching the snow fall. 

At first the flakes were tiny but over time have become fluffy.  The forecast calls for warming temperatures this afternoon with the snow changing to rain but not before we accumulate “one, couple-three” inches.  I would be so content to sit here at the kitchen table, savoring each moment of this snowy day, maybe putting a pot of soup on the stove to simmer or baking some bread.  That is my idea of the perfect snow day.

My fantasy doesn’t include what I have on my agenda – a trip to the gym to continue building up my endurance with Lorenzo.  At least I won’t have to decide what to do to warm up this morning – the driveway will need clearing – all sixty feet of it!

I suppose I could pretend that I am playing in the snow…

I’ll let you know how that works out! ……

….. Andy and I worked for about an hour in shovelling, the snow falling almost as fast as we could get it moved.  Once we realized we weren’t making any headway, we threw in the towel.  I called Lorenzo and the gym to let them know I was taking a pass on my workout today.  Then, I looked out at the driveway….

Here’s what it looked like a few minutes ago… Almost no evidence of our effort.  Oh, and by the way, the two hour delay of school has been upgraded to closure for the day.  I love the snow, but I especially treasure a snow day!

 

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Strangers on a Plane

Isn’t it funny how you can meet someone and connect with them almost instantly?

Last week while flying from Sarasota to Charlotte I sat next to the most extraordinary young woman.  She was travelling home to Pittsburgh with her two teenage children.  Our conversation started with the usual, “where are you going?”, but I’m sure neither of us had a clue where we were heading in the ninety minutes or so on that plane.

At first our connections were based on geography; my sister lived for a short while in the same town her husband grew up in.  The information started with a steady drip and then flowed freely like a faucet opened full blast.  Unlike some of my encounters with strangers where data is dumped and then is ended, I shared with her as well.  In a very short time we were fully engaged in topics that are usually reserved for close friends and certainly not shared with casual acquaintances.  We were two women, both on journeys home, at different stages in the journey of life, coming together for a brief moment sharing conversational postcards of where we’d been and where we hope to go.

Pardon the pun but the time “flew” by.   As we landed in Charlotte, my new friend turned to me and said, “I can’t believe this.  I never talk to anyone on planes.”

As I look back, almost a week later, I am reminded of the story of Jesus and the woman at the well; of the excitement she felt after her chance meeting with the Lord.  I know we were not alone in row 6; the Spirit was also there, prompting and fostering the connections.  There are no cooincidences in life. Chance meetings are not just a roll of the dice, they are “chance” in terms of opportunity; a chance to make the connection.

I’m not certain why my new friend and I we seated together on that plane.  It could have been to make the trip a little more pleasant, or something more.  I may never know.  For now, it is enough that it was.

 

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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.