Poison Ivy, poison ivy...lord it makes you itch
So who gets poison ivy from digging in dirt to pull out roots?
No "leaves of three, let them be"..NOT EVEN A TEENSY one did I see...
but, No....it didn't matter!...it got me bad, sneak attack with no warning - kamikaze ivy!!!
Who could imagine that 40 minutes in the garden could drive a sweet woman like me insane?
Well, I am here to tell you...I should have listened to my Dad and given up gardening when I was 4 years old (see earlier post "Is It Time Yet")....Nuts! I say to all the happy gardeners..
one dose of this curse and you'll be sticking plastic and polyester plants and flowers into your garden..from a distance, and dressed like a mummy........
I have itches and increasing torture on almost every inch of me...picture the recent 97 degree weather at night and rampant poison ivy making you feel like a thousand hornets attacking..or those infamous red ants that sting people to death...I ran out to the store today and bought every item on the shelf to de-itch and sooth myself, and ah-h-h something worked..relief...smells bad, but who cares...now all I need is......something to kill the damn ivy!
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Will There Be Time?
There's a place for us, a time and place for us..take my hand and we're halfway there...take my hand and I'll take you there...someday...someway...
A wistful love song in my young soul, its melody and its message...a promise. Peace and quiet and open air...time to love, time to share..someday, somewhere.......
Oh my oh my...does it ever leave me? It is almost 46 years since I sat in a movie theater, with an unremembered date...weeping, and hopeful...that there would be a time, a place, a hand to take me halfway there......will there be time? Still? Yet?
A wistful love song in my young soul, its melody and its message...a promise. Peace and quiet and open air...time to love, time to share..someday, somewhere.......
Oh my oh my...does it ever leave me? It is almost 46 years since I sat in a movie theater, with an unremembered date...weeping, and hopeful...that there would be a time, a place, a hand to take me halfway there......will there be time? Still? Yet?
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
My Times
I wondered about what I could share as "My Time"...I can think of so very many "times", but none that were truly MY time...well, a few..
I remember some quiet reflective walks on beaches alone and in no particular hurry or purpose. There were some walks in other spots too...Carmel, California in the mornings; around a local lake at home...walking alone is part of "my times"
I like fishing, not necessarily catching fish, just fishing...standing in a stream in waders, on a boat, a dock..on a beach as a child with my mom...fishing is peaceful, and is part of "my times"
It does begin to dawn on me that my times were usually moments of quiet, peace, restorative, spirit-feeding times...swinging in my hammock, rocking a baby grandson..or for that matter, a child, a son, and a daughter...god-filled times, of love, gentleness, peace, comfort...it never seemed to require much else of a worldly or material nature to find these "times"...
My Times are simple..building a sand castle, planting flowers, painting a bird house, reading a book (when my eyesight was better), listening to music of every type...riding along a beautiful pathway of beauty like California's coastline or Redwood forests..riding through Big Sur or King's Canyon in a Mustang convertible with the top down and Amazing Grace or Pachelbel on the CD player....whew! Definitely one of "My Times"
Watching my first grandson born in the delivery room, and watching my sons's tears of joy as he became a father...My Time..helping to raise him.. all of those days are my times, all 16 years of time with 2 fine fine guys..the father and son.
Seeing my daughter graduate from college and law school...and then watching her plan and carry off the most beautiful wedding I have ever seen...simple and lovely..outdoors in a garden...and her beauty, her joy was one of "my Times"..watching her carry and nurture her babies..becoming a mother and sharing those 2 beautiful little boys with me...my beloved and precious grandsons...EVERY moment is in my book of "Times"
I was not sure I had much to write about...but "My Times" are multiplying in my mind...I think I'll pause and savor these for now.....
I remember some quiet reflective walks on beaches alone and in no particular hurry or purpose. There were some walks in other spots too...Carmel, California in the mornings; around a local lake at home...walking alone is part of "my times"
I like fishing, not necessarily catching fish, just fishing...standing in a stream in waders, on a boat, a dock..on a beach as a child with my mom...fishing is peaceful, and is part of "my times"
It does begin to dawn on me that my times were usually moments of quiet, peace, restorative, spirit-feeding times...swinging in my hammock, rocking a baby grandson..or for that matter, a child, a son, and a daughter...god-filled times, of love, gentleness, peace, comfort...it never seemed to require much else of a worldly or material nature to find these "times"...
My Times are simple..building a sand castle, planting flowers, painting a bird house, reading a book (when my eyesight was better), listening to music of every type...riding along a beautiful pathway of beauty like California's coastline or Redwood forests..riding through Big Sur or King's Canyon in a Mustang convertible with the top down and Amazing Grace or Pachelbel on the CD player....whew! Definitely one of "My Times"
Watching my first grandson born in the delivery room, and watching my sons's tears of joy as he became a father...My Time..helping to raise him.. all of those days are my times, all 16 years of time with 2 fine fine guys..the father and son.
Seeing my daughter graduate from college and law school...and then watching her plan and carry off the most beautiful wedding I have ever seen...simple and lovely..outdoors in a garden...and her beauty, her joy was one of "my Times"..watching her carry and nurture her babies..becoming a mother and sharing those 2 beautiful little boys with me...my beloved and precious grandsons...EVERY moment is in my book of "Times"
I was not sure I had much to write about...but "My Times" are multiplying in my mind...I think I'll pause and savor these for now.....
Friday, April 17, 2009
Pinky Time
In the pink..... Is it really spring here?
Cherry blossoms are in the pink. Ladies, babies, and girls are in pink today.
Hardly any dull, dark drab winter clothes adorned the folks opening their doors and jackets to show their skin and clothing pinks..... and to begin to feel the warm sunshine... at last.
And there are flowers peeking out, some in pink...no pink birds, but a beautiful pink sky at sunset.
I wore yellow, and white, and a purple necklace, my purple glasses, and a smile...oh, yes and black pants (I'm not completely in the pink yet)...But mostly I wore a smile, and turned my face toward the warm sunshine. I'm SO ready to be in pink and out of my winter chilled cave...I think I am in morph mode...it's time, spring Time, my favorite time (one of)...I feel my happy heart returning, and it's.....Pink!
Cherry blossoms are in the pink. Ladies, babies, and girls are in pink today.
Hardly any dull, dark drab winter clothes adorned the folks opening their doors and jackets to show their skin and clothing pinks..... and to begin to feel the warm sunshine... at last.
And there are flowers peeking out, some in pink...no pink birds, but a beautiful pink sky at sunset.
I wore yellow, and white, and a purple necklace, my purple glasses, and a smile...oh, yes and black pants (I'm not completely in the pink yet)...But mostly I wore a smile, and turned my face toward the warm sunshine. I'm SO ready to be in pink and out of my winter chilled cave...I think I am in morph mode...it's time, spring Time, my favorite time (one of)...I feel my happy heart returning, and it's.....Pink!
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Time for the Good Stuff...
Oh, for a moment of cookie-making, and kissing soft cheeks, in the drear of a long work week...some days it is only a moment, reflecting on the special Times of my life, that remind me it isn't all work and no play, day after day...the pause that refreshes, restores, and puts a smile in my heart...before I sleep and start my day over, gratefully, very...it is, after all...not THAT many days until it is Christmas cookie-making, grandson-kissing Time.....:-)
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Nitey Night Time....
Is there anything in God's world sweeter, or more comforting, than a warm, snuggling, sleepy baby...and his Grandma.... reflecting on the joy of the moment, the Gift of this Time, when he is so content to just be in my arms...How brief the time that he will be there...
Soon he'll be all gangly and full of ceaseless activity... snakes and snails and puppy dog tails... that's what little boys are made of...but first, he snuggles with Grandma. Thank God for this Time....
Is It Time Yet?
Oh the need to move, hurry, alter, change the pace of time ..how human, childlike. Do we ever really master that impatience?
When I was a wee girl, not quite 4, my beloved Daddy decided to try his businessman's awkward hand at a garden..He selected his favorites, and many of them...radishes (delicious with salt), peas, peppers, green beans and celery, lettuce too. Carrots, he was like Elmer Fudd about them, but I don't want to rush ahead...
I ate lollipops and watched him dig and sweat and get eaten alive by gnats and bees and mosquitos...My daddy always wore a suit a tie and a fedora hat in public...I wasn't sure who he had become, so I watched from the back steps......every day he dug and spaded the dirt.
He ardently, and without any prior experience or background in tilling the land, or doing much of anything hands on, tackled our rocky, non-garden prepped, rented home's backyard in Nutley NJ...he really worked hard..my mother used to holler "Will you PLEASE take a break, you're going to have a heart attack"...she would send me to that back garden with water or a beer for him, but I was afraid of the bees and the yappy dog, so as much as I loved my Daddy I would run back to the steps....
Well, finally the garden was planted...little sticks with seed packets were every where, and then it began...the Is It Time Yet? phase...
I'm sure my Daddy's dreams of his garden yield were grand...he'd come home each day off the bus, newspaper under his arm, hat and suit on, and rush to his garden...he watered and nurtured that dusty seed- packet- covered patch like a godfather....every day, I would go with him while we looked for little green things to stick up...and Lo..they came!!! My Daddy the farmer...could I love him more???
Every day, water, hope, inspect, chase off rabbits...even position that ferociously wild dog near the garden to scare critters away....little beans, little things began to grow......rabbits ate the lettuce... No matter, his eyes were on the radishes and carrots....Daddy, is it Time yet??
And soon enough we had a new routine, me and my Daddy...go to the garden...pull up the radishes and carrots and check out how big they were...and jam them back into the dirt to get bigger...he would tell me...Honey, just a little more Time........
But it never came...and neither did the carrots or radishes....and we gave up....he told me it must have been the lousy soil in Nutley...later I realized that Martha Stewart was growing up in a house just a few steps from where we lived....gosh, Daddy....maybe it wasn't the soil at all....it just wasn' t Time........
When I was a wee girl, not quite 4, my beloved Daddy decided to try his businessman's awkward hand at a garden..He selected his favorites, and many of them...radishes (delicious with salt), peas, peppers, green beans and celery, lettuce too. Carrots, he was like Elmer Fudd about them, but I don't want to rush ahead...
I ate lollipops and watched him dig and sweat and get eaten alive by gnats and bees and mosquitos...My daddy always wore a suit a tie and a fedora hat in public...I wasn't sure who he had become, so I watched from the back steps......every day he dug and spaded the dirt.
He ardently, and without any prior experience or background in tilling the land, or doing much of anything hands on, tackled our rocky, non-garden prepped, rented home's backyard in Nutley NJ...he really worked hard..my mother used to holler "Will you PLEASE take a break, you're going to have a heart attack"...she would send me to that back garden with water or a beer for him, but I was afraid of the bees and the yappy dog, so as much as I loved my Daddy I would run back to the steps....
Well, finally the garden was planted...little sticks with seed packets were every where, and then it began...the Is It Time Yet? phase...
I'm sure my Daddy's dreams of his garden yield were grand...he'd come home each day off the bus, newspaper under his arm, hat and suit on, and rush to his garden...he watered and nurtured that dusty seed- packet- covered patch like a godfather....every day, I would go with him while we looked for little green things to stick up...and Lo..they came!!! My Daddy the farmer...could I love him more???
Every day, water, hope, inspect, chase off rabbits...even position that ferociously wild dog near the garden to scare critters away....little beans, little things began to grow......rabbits ate the lettuce... No matter, his eyes were on the radishes and carrots....Daddy, is it Time yet??
And soon enough we had a new routine, me and my Daddy...go to the garden...pull up the radishes and carrots and check out how big they were...and jam them back into the dirt to get bigger...he would tell me...Honey, just a little more Time........
But it never came...and neither did the carrots or radishes....and we gave up....he told me it must have been the lousy soil in Nutley...later I realized that Martha Stewart was growing up in a house just a few steps from where we lived....gosh, Daddy....maybe it wasn't the soil at all....it just wasn' t Time........
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