I love and enjoy plants because…
Good morning, August. I can’t believe you’re here.
I Love…
Category: simple things
Lost and Found
I suppose there are some people who never lose things. I am not one of them. In fact, there are certain things that I lose consistently, so much so that I plan for their loss. That would be jewelry, and earrings in particular. Losing things that you really like is heartbreaking, but at the same time it opens the way for some really good stories of recovery.
In my early 20’s I had one boyfriend (and only one) who had really good taste in gifts of all kinds – flowers, adventures, restaurants, and jewelry. He bought me a pair of yellow gold earrings that were simple but beautifully designed. I loved everything about them. I must have lost them at least half a dozen times. Once they were lost for over a year before I found them under the bed in the guest room at my parent’s house. The first time I lost them was the most traumatic though. I had only been married for a few months (but not to the guy with the good taste in jewelry) when the husband and I took a camping trip. We were tenting for a week in Tennessee at a big reservoir near Oak Ridge. The campground was super nice with big tent sites and a convenient bathhouse. And then one day my earring was missing.
Why is it that no one ever tells you that you have only one earring on? My ears are right out there in plain sight, but I am always the one who suddenly realizes that one is gone. I ransacked our tent, shook out all the sleeping bags, went through our suitcases, looked in every crack and crevice of our van. I backtracked to all the places I had walked. Pretty much went around looking at the ground for at least half a day. Then on the day we were leaving, I decided to have one last look in the bathhouse. I found it in a pile of slime and hair over the drain of one of the showers. Gross. But did I care? No. I was just in awe that I even thought of looking there.
One year for Christmas I told my daughters to tell the husband about a set of jewelry that I had admired in a store. That’s how I have to do it with the husband – but that’s not a bad thing because I always end up with something I like that way. There was a necklace, a really pretty bracelet and earrings, and he got it all for me. It wasn’t long before I lost the bracelet. Everybody at work helped me look until we finally gave up. I was so upset that I went back to the store and bought the bracelet again. Somehow that helped, It was expensive but it helped. Then I lost one of the earrings. Back to the store, but you know they won’t sell you just one earring. You have to buy a pair. I decided having three was a good idea for someone like me. I never knew when I might need a spare. Months later I found the bracelet. It had come off during a cooking demonstration when I was getting a pan out of the oven drawer of the range. I still have two bracelets and three earrings. Good insurance.
I really like silver, but because it tarnishes all the time, I like white gold even better. One vacation I splurged on a pair of white gold hoops. (Okay, I got them in Walmart, but they were real gold and they weren’t cheap.) These hoops have a clasp that drives me crazy – they come open with very little provocation. I’ve lost them three times, one time for every year I’ve had them. The first two times I found them in really crazy places involving strange medical equipment that is hard to describe, so I won’t. But the last time I again gave up after several days of searching parking lots and offices I had visited. I bought another pair which I did not like as well. That was two months ago.
Last week, after my medical check up, I decided to re-take my blood pressure at home because I didn’t like how high it had been. I have the old fashioned cuff and stethoscope, and there around the tubing of the stethoscope was my earring. Who knew? Good thing Walmart has a good return policy.
I told the story to my eldest daughter, who also loses things. She said “I wish God loved me as much as he loves you…” Oh yeah, it’s nice. But I am quite sure he loves us both the same.
Sign Me Up, Please
I was only two steps ahead of a giant lizard who had gained entry into the dorm and was sucking up hapless students as they tried to figure out what was going on. That one had Jurassic Park written all over it.
Last night I dreamed. I probably dream every night but I rarely remember any of them. For some odd reason I remember two dreams from last night. I willed the Jurassic Park one to go away and not come back. It worked and I slept again. But the second dream was different and I hung on to it in wonder.
We, myself, my two girls and my mother, were in a large medical building waiting to be called for appointments. My youngest was only about three and I was carrying her. I was feeling kind of like a mother who has been denied custody of her children and is suddenly reunited. I asked if she wanted to get down and run around but she said no and we hugged closer and smiled at each other. We sat down since the wait was interminable, but we were still content. My oldest daughter leaning against my knee and the youngest snuggled close on the chair beside me. It was the most pleasurable situation and I remarked “this is the way it should be”.
The strangeness of the dream is that we do not have a broken home and I have never been denied custody. My children are grown and live far enough away that I do not see them often but they have moved on in very natural ways. I wanted them to grow up and have lives of their own. They have done that successfully.
It was like a little gift – to have that time back again so vividly – when arms were wrapped around my neck and a small head rested on my shoulder. I’m just sayin’ that I would like a regular subscription to that dream. 
Thanksgiving Day
Today is a thanksgiving holiday for me. I’m just taking a day off after two weeks and several thousand miles of travel to be thankful for making it there and back once again. I have “that thought” every time I leave home that I might not be back again, ever. I’m not upset or overly morbid about it – it’s more a realization that there is no promise of longevity or a trouble free life given to anyone. Stuff happens, no matter how careful you are.Read More »
On the Road in Arcola, Illinois!
Back in the tiny, little car (with great gas mileage, ok, I should be thankful) for a full day of travel in the midwest. Wisconsin is a long state going north to south. Illinois is even longer. Adding to it’s longness is the fact that there is very little to break the monotony of the landscape . “Oh, there’s a field! Oh, and there’s another field! Oh, oh, there’s a barn!” It continues like this for hundreds of miles in a mind dulling, flat way. However, it is spring so at least it is green and the fields are planted. In August when it’s hot and dusty and dried up you don’t even want to be there.
As evening rolled around I saw a sign for a Dutch Kitchen restaurant and thought the husband might enjoy stopping for dinner. It was an Amish community of about 3,000 population, Arcola, Illinois. I think a town has to have at least three Amish people to take advantage of the label “Amish community”. Right away the husband is wondering if the reality show with the Amish mafia has done any filming there. We left the interstate and drove into town where there were real brick streets and beautiful, big, old two story frame houses with shady lawns. Main Street was where we found the Dutch Kitchen Restaurant and had our meal.
The husband decided to try out his Penn Dutch heritage on the waitress. He asked for some dish in another language and got a blank, “deer in the headlights” look from the very young waitress who had no clue what he was saying. Of course, this was an opportunity to educate, which he did fairly thoroughly. She came back and asked if she could just bring him a dish of cottage cheese and he could put his own apple butter on it. We repeated the lesson later when the owner came around to check on us.
But who would have guessed that we had landed in a place with such a claim to fame. The pictures on the wall in the restaurant were full of the history of the town, including one from 1898 when a castle built entirely of broomstick corn was erected on the street right outside the restaurant (see pic of pic). They have a broomstick corn festival at the end of the summer. And when I went outside to get some photos of the town I learned that the inventor of Raggedy Ann and Andy was born in Arcola. They have a festival for the dolls every year (see pic below). Two festivals for one town! And there could be more for all I know. The streets and buildings were classic old midwestern town and really quite interesting.
I’m just sayin’ it can be kind of fun to pull off the road and spend a few minutes in some small, unheralded place, on a whim. Do it.
A 21st Century Mother’s Day
Things I did on Mother’s Day weekend 2014:
– The husband started things out by taking me to Miller’s Dutch Family Restaurant. We went on Saturday night because Miller’s is always closed on Sunday, so we thought. We were greeted by signs everywhere that they were now open 7 days a week. Wonder what brought about this change? But we stayed.
– Went to the evening service of Exalt Church, which was fortunate because it was the only social celebrating of the M.D. occasion the whole weekend. Received a beautiful rose and there were tasty desserts. I was pretty full of Miller’s strawberry pie but managed to put down a piece of chocolate cake, a sacrificial act, to be polite of course.
– Talked on phone with the eldest daughter who was agonizing over our inability as a family to make much of holidays. Evidently I don’t make people feel guilty enough when they forget when the holiday is, therefore they develop the habit of forgetting. This daughter calls several times a week and we talk a lot so I have no trouble forgiving her for not driving for four hours and appearing on my doorstep. I tell her not to feel guilty. We perpetuate our habit of not keeping holidays.
– I try to send my email Mother’s Day greeting to my mother. Called her earlier to apologize for not mailing the card I bought her on time for her to get it. She doesn’t make me feel guilty… hmm, something familiar about this scenario. Computer is being really difficult and won’t let me send so I go to bed.
– Sunday morning and the computer has healed. I send the letter to my mom.
– The husband has met up with a virus overnight (he didn’t catch a cold, it caught him). He doesn’t want to be coughing and hacking all over people at church so I go alone. Received nice Mother’s Day hugs from several friends. Oddly enough, no mention in the service about it being Mother’s Day (or was I just not listening?)
– Made a call to a young mother and had a good chat.
– Received a long email from youngest daughter yesterday but also today, a picture via text of the card she bought me. This gives me great idea because theoretically, one would not even have to buy the card – just take phone camera to the card shop and click away. Clever.
– Another text greeting from a “not quite, but almost like a son” young man in California. Came with a virtual hug.
– For fun, I relax by catching up on all 5 types of solitaire challenges for month of May until I am hallucinating and feeling weird. I see a 6 and immediately think 7, numbers are coming at me from all directions. I go to kitchen for my favorite, Cozy Shack rice pudding.
There are still several hours of this holiday left and who can guess what wonders await me. Feeling happy and blessed.
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A to Z Challenge: The Joy of YES (the letter Y)
Yes. A beautiful word. I can think of so many times when I’ve been thankful to hear a “yes” from someone. Yes, you can do that. Yes, it can be worked out. Yes, I have time. Yes, you’re accepted. Yes, it’s going to be okay. Yes, I found it, it’s here. Yes, it can be fixed. Yes, I love you. It’s easy to get in trouble with my “yes” and my “no”. My fearful “no” makes me miss out on valuable experiences. My unthinking, default “yes” results in an overcommitted, overwhelming schedule. So, to be purposeful and joyful in saying YES I am going to
- Say yes to people I love. My cousin recently asked me for some sewing help. She and her daughter came over and we spent time together doing a project she really wanted done. That was a good “yes” and actually got me thinking about the subject.
- Say yes to experiences rather than vicarious living. Going to Cambodia was something I never imagined myself doing. It has also been one of the most enriching experiences I’ve had in all my life. And it grows better each time I go.
- Say yes to creativity over merely consuming. Writing something, sewing something, growing a beautiful plant, making music are the activities I run to when I wonder who I am. For some strange but wonderful reason, I need to create to be happy.
- Say yes to things that are lasting over things that are temporary. As I sit here thinking, I know science doesn’t have an answer that satisfies me as to how I can be aware, have a conscience, be a unique person, be more than just physical matter. The metaphysical, the spiritual side of me exists and it feels a connection to the eternal.
So may my yes’s be many, made with joy and wisdom. And may my no’s be few and judiciously spoken.
A to Z Challenge: P for Poem (hello National Poetry Month)
I have a friend, J. Carroll Barnhill (J for Jesse and he’s always wondered how he ended up with two girl names…). A few years after I met him he had a bad fall from a very frisky race horse and shattered his hip. He came to stay at my house for his rather lengthy recovery and it was suggested to him that since he couldn’t do much but lie in bed, he should read or maybe write poetry. Many years later he is still writing poetry and reading his favorites at gatherings of all kinds. He doesn’t type much, which is why I’ve gotten to type most of his creations and they are all stored on my computer. As “keeper of the anthologies” I wrote this poem for him and it was included in the preface of his first book.
Another Silly Poem
“Another silly poem,” he said, “for you to type today.”
“You probably don’t have time for this, but I thought I’d ask anyway.”
The words are scrawled on whatever’s at hand, envelope, napkin or pad.
Sometimes hard to read, grammatically strange, but inspired by a vision he’d had.
His words, his thoughts, his moments of life, captured with pen and ink
Are presented to me with a hopeful smile and then “What do you think?”
Obviously bursting with pride at this “newborn thing” he’s made,
Yet giving his feelings a place to hide in case I don’t give a good grade.
All his years of living, places and times, simply written down
Passed on to those who identify, who marvel, who laugh or frown
Or cry or argue or shake their heads – amazement on their face.
How can so many words jump out from such an unlikely place?
For he’s been a man of action, a workman with his hands.
Setting poles, stringing wires, driving machines, caring for horses and land,
Loving and losing, rejecting and choosing – no busier person around.
Who would think he’d have dared to try this new thing, this talent freshly found.
It’s his courage that takes the time to share and cares to pass things on
It’s his joy that sees the fun and rhyme, and hope life’s built upon.
Word upon word, one page at a time, a life I’ve never known…
So with respect I sit to type “another silly poem”.
Shirley Dietz © 2006
A to Z Challenge: M for Mindfullness
What is going on in your mind? Do you wonder why you feel the way you do?
There is a lot of comfort and happiness to be found in knowing that we are loved and enjoyed by someone else. When you see that someone enjoys you, it speaks of how they see you at the present moment, be it messy, inconvenient, embarrassing, negative or positive. They enjoy YOU, not your ability to do. It encourages you to think that they would love and enjoy you no matter what. And in turn, this makes you enjoy them and their association all the more.
However, some of us, myself included, are much more likely to be aware of our inability to measure up than we are of our ability to be enjoyed. We want to be better than we know we are, and in dwelling on that we miss out on the fun fact that someone enjoys us and loves to love us. Today, I’m going to choose to be that person who knows they are loved and enjoyed, by the people and the God who know me very well and like me in spite of it. A thankful, mindful day…
A to Z Challenge: L, Letters
Dear _____,
Please write me a letter. I know email is faster and easier and cheaper but sometimes I like the way “snail mail” slows things down. I like seeing that fat envelope in the mailbox, taking it out and reading it while I walk back to the house. Then I read it again with a cup of tea and think about what it said. And I can wait for a day or two before I answer because there is no pressure or expectation – we know mail takes days. I can take my time thinking and writing back.
I love to see your handwriting and don’t want to forget what it looks like, and if you draw a funny picture I like that too. Sometimes you spill something on your paper or maybe it smells like your hand lotion and it makes me feel more like I’m right there with you. And I know how much time you invested in the writing and that speaks of love and care.
I know when I sit to write a handwritten note these days it almost feels like I’m rebelling against technology – makes me feel retro on purpose. And seeing the rounded letters flowing from my pen is artistically pleasing to me. As I think and write the long way, my thoughts come a little clearer and suddenly I am more sure of what I’m thinking. It is a special joy to me when you save my letters and return them to me, giving me a record of my times as good as any journal. I know I’ve forgotten details of events that come right back to me when I pick up an old letter and re-read it. That old box I keep letters in doesn’t really take up that much room and it’s kind of nice not to have to hunt in cyberspace for hours on end. You have a box like that too, don’t you? No? How sad. You should start one.
Someday I want to read to you the letters my great-great-grandmother wrote. Wow, what a window on her world! Things were so different and yet so the same. It does me good to see that thread of sameness in our lives and I think you would like seeing it too. How much I would have missed if I had not been able to know her through her letters. Want to know where I got my stubborn streak or quirky sense of humor? I think I know…
Well, all for now. I know you’re busy but don’t be afraid to sit a spell and write me a page or two. The world won’t come to an end (probably not) if you do. I’ll be watching for the mail.
Yours truly,
A Lover of Letters
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I Just Have to Say... 
