THE DUST WILL WAIT

Last week the flowering shrubs and trees were at their zenith.  Today I captured our neighbors two dogwoods in a moment of brilliant sunshine.  The beams stole my perfect focus, but sure felt nice on my back. The blooms stubbornly hang on to their colors in spite of the wind and rain.   I’m too lazy to look up the names of these early spring bloomers.  I wish the whole flower bed was covered with them. (UPDATE:  Leopard Bane) I thought this little wonder was called a Jerusalem Lily.  Apparently, when we tore up our lawn four years ago, some bulbs went with dirt across the street to Bill’s small orchard.  They have multiplied in the absence of care, and the little happy white faces smile everywhere under his walnut trees. (UPDATE:  Star of Bethlehem above) Shhhhh….a baby fern, tended gently by the older fronds.   I wonder, is there is a lullaby to sing for such an occasion?  Go

One early spring day 1979 I was surprised to receive a small check in the mail from my paternal grandmother’s estate.  Not only had she never met me in person, but she had passed away 23 years earlier. The check was enough to fill my car with a load of groceries. Or not.  I chose the latter.  I went shopping. I don’t remember what I purchased for myself or for the two girls.  (Our third was still a twinkle in her daddy’s eye.)  But, I DO remember the gift I purchased for my husband.  It was a striped shirt of multiple blues in a very popular loose knit style.  It was the most I had every spent on a single item of clothing. We had a little package opening party that evening when I arrived home from work.  “Wow!” He exclaimed.  “This is really nice!” He tried it on and it was a perfect fit.  I suggested he take it off and hang it in his closet. “The directions say ‘dry clean only.’ “ I warned him.  “And, I would like you to save it for special occasions.” “Okay,” he said, a

The orchard wakes beneath the golden sun And, apple blossoms open pink and white Though efflorescence rests when day is done Transparent they reflect in the moonlight As soft pastel on petals slowly fades The fivesome leaves will stretch out green and curl Bright green above and silver under shades While pollinators dive in for the pearl The wind machine sits idle by the rows To thwart a frosty mood if grows acute So pleased at how the warm spring Zephyr blows A tempting scent of autumn’s promised fruit And much to soon is gone the beauty graced but pleasing us,  this season it embraced  by Pamela  Robin of Pensieve has invited one and all to join in Pensieve's Poetic License.  (Yes, she had her license suspended there for awhile.  Glad she renewed it!) Hope to read you there!!

My friend Kim loves rocks. She also loves to share her love for rocks.  Even now that she has moved far away to Colorado Springs, Colorado, she continues to entertain us with her discoveries. Last weekend she went for a hike and saw this brazen boulder along the path . She photographed it and promptly E-mailed it to me. What do you think?  Proof positive that Rock Eaters really exist?   Or,  just the butt of one of Mother Nature's playful jokes? 

It wasn’t long ago I wrote about my early childhood memories of Laundry Day .   Nor does it seem that much time has passed since I spent endless quality time with a top load two-speed wash machine and a quantity of diapers and kids clothes. Mind you, I didn’t complain about the bottomless diaper pail and kids hamper. Stories from my mom about wash boards and heating water on a wood stove (or even over a camp fire) convinced me I was blessed with what I had. Our house was built in the seventies – when architects and contractors decided that you could squeeze a hot water heater, a wash machine and a dryer into a closet and call it a utility room.  For years we listened to the daily wash cycle while we conversed around the table or watched Television. We eventually turned the closet into my computer desk and cupboards and moved the laundry into the garage.  Then, two years ago we bought the front load washer and dryer, each sitting atop a storage drawer.   Here it

Today I sifted through some memorabilia that we stored in boxes over the years, following the death of parents and grandparents.  I am working on a project and I’m looking for a particular old newspaper clipping.  I failed to find the object of my search because I was sidetracked by headlines from The Portland News: BANDIT BUSY AT NOON . My husbands grandmother wasn’t concerned about a robbery on that October day in 1930.  Rather, she was the proud Mama of a little girl whose pose on a tricycle graced the spot under the headlines. Thrift With a Smile.   That is my late Mother-in-law, Joan (When she grew older she insisted that it be pronounced Jo Ann.)  She was a very pretty child who grew up to be a a strikingly pretty woman.   She had a bronzed copy of this photo that sat in her living room for all to see.  I’m not sure what became of her cherished item.  Her daughter (my sister in law) may have claimed it – an unfortunate occurrence, as Alzheimer’s has caused her to discard othe

According to Wikipedia , the free encyclopedia:  An umbrella or parasol (also called a brolly , rainshade , sunshade , gamp or bumbershoot ) is a canopy designed to protect against rain or   sunlight.. The term parasol usually refers to an item designed to protect from the sun; umbrella refers to a device more suited to protect from rain. But not wind.  That weather phenomenon has been blowing for days now, and this is what has happened to our patio umbrella.  At least it wasn't open, or it may have flown across town by now.  I hope it will still function properly. We have at least three regular sized umbrellas that find places to hide in our cars or closets.  They are rarely where we remember putting them. One is black, one is brown, and one is red.  And -  because of their ability to conceal themselves in plain sight - rarely used.  Gattina wants to know if you're all wet, ..or do you let your smile be your umbrella?  Join the Fun Monday participants  at Writers Cra

This is a snow squall over the Blues.  It left a trail of white behind it as it sprinted the edge of the valley..  I couldn't help myself.  I grabbed my camera and set it on the dashboard and clicked this photo yesterday while I was driving.  I played it safe... I just clicked and didn't look at the photos until I got home.