tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55949338652019762132024-03-05T08:22:21.435-08:00All around there are stories just waiting to be told!boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-83918416438205797302013-08-30T18:18:00.001-07:002013-08-30T18:18:30.865-07:00hummingbirds<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<h2 class="style11">
Interesting Facts About the Meaning of Hummingbirds</h2>
The meaning of hummingbirds in ancient folklore can only be found in civilizations native to the Western Hemisphere. Hummingbirds are only found in the Western Hemisphere, so legends and folklore related to hummingbirds were not created by European, Asian, or African cultures.<br />
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Members of the Pueblo Tribe legend and traditions also associate hummingbirds with rain. Dances to bring rain are filled with symbols of the hummingbird. One Pueblo legend talks about how a hummingbird gathered clouds from all four directions: north, south, east, and west to bring rain to an earth filled with fire. <br />
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The hummingbird is also often associated with joy and freedom. A hummingbird is constantly in motion and cannot survive in a cage. It’s darting motion and bright colors what associates it with joy and a positive outlook, or optimism.<br />
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(from <a href="http://www.hummingbirdfacts.net/hummingbird_meaning/hummingbird_meaning.html">http://www.hummingbirdfacts.net/hummingbird_meaning/hummingbird_meaning.html</a>)<br />
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A friend commented that an old wives tale told </div>
that seeing a hummingbird is a reminder that God is always with you <br />
in a most delicate, personal way!<br />
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Funny, fat little, tailless bodies<br />
that are supported forward and backwards<br />
with wings that move in the infinity pattern.<br />
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For most of the season, I have not seen many hummingbirds, <br />
so sorry to say that I have let the sugar water go rancid in this feeder.<br />
When I did spot and emerald green bird, I immediately went into the house<br />
and made a batch of the nectar they seem to like so much.<br />
I will try to change this out at lease every other day.<br />
I am not sure how long hummingbirds stay in my area,<br />
but will keep them as long as I can!<br />
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It was and is very difficult to get these hummers while sipping on my butterfly bushes.<br />
Not only is the blooming time near the end,<br />
but these small birds seem to be fearful of bees and wasps.<br />
They move so quickly form bloom to bloom.<br />
Even I love the heady grape scent in the air near these bushes.<br />
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For some reason, most of the hummingbirds that find my simple feeder,<br />
also hover around this funny chicken I have in a tomato planter. <br />
Curious as to what they see in him.<br />
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Early one morning, Harvey was laying at my feet. </div>
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A hummingbird flew and hovered three inches from his face, </div>
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and they just stared at each other. </div>
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When the hummer flew away, Harvey just watched as if this happens all the time.. </div>
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Maybe it does, and I was just privileged to witness this odd friendship.</div>
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I must admit that waiting and watching for these little fellows, <br />
has made my heavy heart light again.<br />
I remain quiet, with camera poised. <br />
The dogs are usually in the chair next to me, as the humid mornings <br />
do not call for chasing after each other. <br />
Any whirring movement, and my camera comes to attention, <br />
even though most of the time, although these hummingbirds do not seem to be afraid of me, <br />
they are too quick to capture most of their flight paths. <br />
I have also discovered that the camera that I have had for years, <br />
seems to have an extra zoom for only these pictures. <br />
I am counting it as a blessing, rather than my ignorance of all things technical.<br />
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It is so interesting to see them land and sit for a spell near the bird feeders, <br />
while cardinals, bluejays, sparrows and nuthatches fly in and around.<br />
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Hummingbirds seem to only be out in the daylight.<br />
Nighttime finds them nestled in strange little nests.<br />
This was the last pic before dusk,<br />
I took from inside the house.<br />
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<br />boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-34480971569234518472013-08-26T11:07:00.002-07:002013-08-26T11:11:21.838-07:00Crossroads: At the Intersection of Resentment and Forgiveness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I want to look and act like my friend Connie when I'm seventy years old.<br />
Energy enthusiasm follow her like an orb as she zips through her daily<br />
three mile walk around our neighborhood.<br />
One word sums her up: light. She's pure light.<br />
<br />
So intrigued by this beautiful woman who is chronologically old enough to<br />
be my mom but young enough in spirit to be my baby sister, I invited Connie to<br />
lunch. I wanted to know about the important decisions she had made in her life <br />
and how they had shaped her. I knew there was much to learn from this feisty <br />
character.<br />
<br />
Connie said, "One of the biggest choices I had to make throughout my life<br />
was whether to extend forgiveness or to hold on to resentment. I took the wrong<br />
road. I chose to harbor my hurt."<br />
<br />
Connie was birthed to a seventeen-year-old mom and an absentee father.<br />
Connie's mother, being both a glamorous and fun-loving woman, lacked the<br />
emotional maturity ro be the mom Connie longed for. For twelve years, while <br />
her mom dated, Connie's grandmother, who lived with them, provided her care and<br />
direction. But at last her mother did settle down with a fabulous father figure for<br />
Connie, and she looked to establish the mother daughter bond that Connie had <br />
longed for, for so many years. But it was too late.<br />
<br />
In those short but formative first twelve years, Connie had learned to revel in<br />
resentment toward her mother. As her mother tried harder and harder to reach<br />
her, Connie realized that she had something to hold over her mom, and Connie<br />
found that she enjoyed the power. Connie told me, "I fed my hurt."<br />
<br />
Connie would continue to find herself at this same intersection over and over,<br />
as her mom sought to soothe the pain she had caused her then-young daughter.<br />
But Connie would always turn on to the road of resentment instead of forgiveness, <br />
looking for justice.<br />
<br />
<em>He will not crush the weakest reed</em><br />
<em> or put out a flickering candle.</em><br />
<em> He will bring justice to all who have been wronged. (Isaiah 42:3)</em><br />
<em></em><br />
As Connie continued to withhold forgiveness through the years, her own<br />
kids were amazed that their mom---so forgiving and so forgiving of others---<br />
held on to bitterness with both hands wen it came to their grandmother.<br />
<br />
But as Alzheimer's besieged her once-healthy mom, Connie's heart began to<br />
soften. He mom, who still recognized Connie, was comforted b having her<br />
only child be her caregiver. Still, the important words had not been said. Finally,<br />
Connie found herself sitting at the corner of resentment and forgiveness for the<br />
last time.<br />
<br />
As her mother lay on her deathbed in a deep comatose state, Connie sent her<br />
family from her mother's room. She laid her head upon her mother's pillow and<br />
whispered softly in her mother's ear, "Will you forgive me?" Against all odds,<br />
Connie's mom, never opening her eyes, squeezed her daughter's hand.<br />
<br />
Isn't it interesting that for sixty-five years, Connie's mom sought her forgiveness,<br />
but in the end it was Connie who asked for hers? Connie realized that she<br />
had sacrificed years of incredible joys and celebrations in order to harbor her<br />
hurt, feed her pain, and try to right a wrong from so long ago.<br />
<br />
Connie mourned her mother's death but her tears were not bitter---she had<br />
made peace with her mom, and herself. But this wise and precious woman <br />
sat across form me at our table in the restaurant, her tears flowed with regret for<br />
the years wasted.<br />
<br />
<em>So we have stopped evaluating others from a human point of view.</em><br />
<em> At one time we thought of Christ merely from a human point of view.</em><br />
<em> How differently we know Him now! </em><br />
<em> This means that anyone who belongs </em><em>to Christ has become a new person. </em><br />
<em> The old life is gone; a new live begun!</em><br />
<em> (2 Corinthians 5:16-17)</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<strong>COME ON!!!!!</strong><br />
Was stammering around the house this morning, feeling angry and hurt.<br />
Rearranging furniture, cleaning and <em><strong>throwing</strong></em> things out!<br />
All I asked for was an answer to how to deal with so many things.<br />
I ran across a devotional written by Ellen Miller,<br />
my good friend Karen gave me a long while ago.<br />
I had not had "time" to read it.<br />
Really God? This is the answer? OK. What do you have for me today.<br />
I flipped to August 26...which was a part two, <br />
so I turned to the day before...to get the whole message.<br />
I sat down in a chair and read the above story.<br />
Through tears, and sobs, God had given me an answer.<br />
<br />
I absolutely hate confrontations.<br />
Especially with my family, immediate or fringe. <br />
There is always so much baggage with family.<br />
I also seem to be unable to find words, <br />
or even clear thoughts when discussing anything.<br />
It mostly ends up with screaming and crying and folks going away with hurt feelings.<br />
After a while, as we each rethink what we said, what was said,<br />
and what really was the true intent, <br />
forgiveness happens.<br />
<br />
For some reason, resentment feels so very good to hang onto and to feed.<br />
Hurt feelings, anger, thoughts that build to selfish pity parties.<br />
We wonder what others think of us from stories told in anger.<br />
Why is it so very hard to say I'm sorry. <br />
I never ment that.<br />
Why can we not clarify what we thought we heard?<br />
Why is it so very hard to NOT take offense in the first place.<br />
No one really goes out of their way to hurt someone they love.<br />
For that matter, I don't know anyone who goes out of their way to hurt a stranger.<br />
<br />
So on this day of new beginnings, I choose forgiveness.<br />
I hope you can too.<br />
It really is much better to take a deep clean breath.<br />
Unhindered by resentment.<br />
Do it now!<br />
<br />
<br />
<em></em><br />
<br />boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-44973340849264142092013-05-02T11:31:00.000-07:002013-05-02T11:31:01.907-07:00The AddictionFrom the hours between 7am and noon, <br />
I can most likely be found in my back yard oasis.<br />
I call it an oasis because for me, there is no other place on earth <br />
that is as peaceful or beautiful.<br />
I invite others to come and sit a spell, even when I am not here.<br />
Because in my garden you will surely find calm and healing.<br />
<br />
One azalea bush has bloomed bright fusia, <br />
and the rest of the trees and bushes seem to blossom more<br />
every moment I look up at them from my perch, <br />
unfurling their leaves and flowers in the warm day.<br />
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<br />
The orioles have arrived and have come back to their nest of last year,<br />
in the tree directly in front of my chair, high above in my tree.<br />
I scurry, as well as I am able with a broken leg,<br />
to fill their feeders with grape jelly, orange marmalade and orange halves.<br />
I hear their lovely song, as they wait for the dogs to settle, <br />
and they feel comfortable enough to sip the homemade juices.<br />
With their bright orange coloring, my camera and I can follow their progress easily.<br />
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<br />
The rose breasted grosbeaks have also returned with a flourish.<br />
I had only seen them a few times last season, <br />
taking quite a while to discover what kind of bird they actually were. <br />
Now they are back in multitude, <br />
and I am discovering are very aggressive at the feeders!<br />
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mama chasing away the bluejay</div>
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<br />
The shy, but noisy red headed woodpeckers call my attenton to thier frolicking<br />
in the trees behind my yard. <br />
Squawking and flying and chasing one another, <br />
rarely attempting to venture to the tree nut banquet awaiting them in the feeder.<br />
When they do come close, <br />
it is only to circle with their vibrant white, black and red feathers,<br />
swooping near, but most always veering off at the last moment. <br />
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<br />
Every year I try to decipher each different birdsong, <br />
and I seem to forget each tune during the cold winter months.<br />
With that first early morning note, <br />
I am transported back as if no time had passed at all.<br />
<br />
I watch the mourning dove sunning herself on top of the feeder. <br />
Suddenly she flies away as I notice all the bird songs have stopped.<br />
Gracfully low overhead, a hawk circles and then leaves.<br />
The songs begin again as though the switch was flipped on.<br />
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<br />
I eagerly await the hatching baby birds, <br />
as the parents take turns feeding them meal worms and suet, <br />
and then finally guide their young to the feeders <br />
to learn to eat the seeds and jelly themselves.<br />
<br />
As I cautiously walk around the garden, setting baskets, and iron ornaments around, <br />
I am drawn to the weeds that seem to be taking over the area.<br />
I broke my leg two weeks ago, <br />
and I have been instructed by my youngest daughter <br />
that I must sit and allow her to take over my much loved chores.<br />
It is easy for me to let her mow the grass and sweep the deck, <br />
even to bag the leaves from last fall.<br />
But it is so very difficult for me to even suggest she carefully rake the beds <br />
where dormant perennials await the winter blanket of leaves <br />
to be lovingly thrown away from them.<br />
Through the decade of years, <br />
I have learned not to weed anything until most everything has come up to bloom.<br />
I have unknowingly pulled may newly erupting flowers from their home, <br />
never to see them again, because I thought they were weeds.<br />
<br />
As I continue my tour, I stop to pull just one weed. <br />
One turns into three and I have the thought<br />
that I am addicted to my garden as one is addicted to nicotine or alcohol or cocaine.<br />
As the physical pain in my leg creeps into my consciousness, <br />
I struggle to stand and move to the safety of the deck. <br />
It is a mighty struggle as my eyes see more and more of the once hidden weeds.<br />
However, I consider the consequences of continuing this current path. <br />
The lure of just one more weed, just one more bed, <br />
is almost more than I can overcome.<br />
The thought of my daughter catching me is enough to stop me in my tracks, though.<br />
<br />
Off to the sun dappled area, where too soon it will be too hot to enjoy my paradise.<br />
If I behave now, I can enter my familiar world of earth and growth and abandon.<br />
It is enough knowing that I will be wrapped in my garden soon enough, <br />
that I can let the winter plans of complete re landscaping go another year. <br />
There will be plenty of weeding and planting to do without any new projects this year.<br />
<br />
The sun is just now touching my chair supported toes, as I keep them lifted to heal. <br />
It will be only a matter of minutes before I must take cover from the sun.<br />
I may use some sunscreen and a floppy hat to extend my visit a little longer.<br />
The bird's songs lull me into complete bliss as the warm breeze drifts past me.<br />
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boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-60294179532844738902013-02-22T18:34:00.000-08:002013-02-25T20:51:04.388-08:00Something's differentHe sloshes through the stained snow on his was to training.<br />
It's almost a mile from the temporary group home.<br />
He worked the late shift last night,<br />
cleaning and waxing floors.<br />
It's been almost fifteen years since he had a job.<br />
Since he had to wake to an alarm that he set.<br />
Since he had to buy and make his own meals.<br />
The training has helped.<br />
It's amazing how much he forgot, or never knew at all.<br />
He didn't know his dad, and his mom wasn't much of a homemaker.<br />
She did what she could for him and his three sisters,<br />
but most of the time, she spent in the bar, trying to forget her problems.<br />
He didn't blame her.<br />
She made sure they all got to school.<br />
It was great that the church down the street donated socks and sweat shirts and pants<br />
once a year, because the clothes they did have were only washed when his mom<br />
stumbled into some extra money.<br />
He hated the way some of the other kids held their noses when he walked by,<br />
but what could he do?<br />
Occasionally his mom would throw the clothes away when she went to the food bank.<br />
There was a hand me down store there where they got free clothes.<br />
He liked the church clothes better.<br />
Those clothes were new.<br />
It had <br />
felt like his birthday.<br />
<br />
When he was fifteen, he skipped school, again.<br />
This time, he went into the gas station around the corner with his two friends.<br />
They were going to get a pop.<br />
One of his friends had another idea though, but it was too late to stop him.<br />
He pulled out his dad's gun and told the clerk to give him the money.<br />
The clerk was scared, and fumbled at the register.<br />
His friend was afraid too.<br />
The gun went off and the clerk died.<br />
Fifteen years later, he was walking down the street, on his way to learn how to pay his bills.<br />
<br />
It wasn't even worth it.<br />
Why go through all this trouble to learn to pay bills,<br />
make a budget, learn to make a grilled cheese sandwich, without burning the kitchen down,<br />
and how to be polite enough to the manager of the store he cleaned every night,<br />
so he wouldn't get fired for telling him to shove this stupid job.<br />
<br />
As he walked in the door to the building and over to the third room,<br />
he saw a few familiar faces.<br />
Their faces looked as noncommittal as his own.<br />
They were all supposed to be learning skills, <br />
and listening to the church fella with all the tattoos<br />
tell them about the way life was supposed be.<br />
He was a good guy, but he had never been in prison before. <br />
What did he know.<br />
<br />
He made his way to the registration table, <br />
scrawled his name with his large, callused hand,<br />
and grabbed a coke.<br />
Something was different today though.<br />
Instead of the tootsie pops that were always set out, <br />
there was a big bowl of cookies.<br />
Where did these come from?<br />
They smelled so good.<br />
They looked so good!<br />
These were not store bought cookies.
<br />
They were round but not really round, kind of misshaped.
<br />
The preacher said he could have four, <br />
and if there were any left, he could take some home.
<br />
He wondered who had spent their day making all these cookies.
<br />
There must be at least twelve dozen or more chocolate chip cookies here.<br />
Everyone had the same reaction.
<br />
Each man got real quiet when he got to the table.
<br />
<br />
He inhaled deeply.
<br />
Oh, it smelled so good.<br />
He inhaled again.<br />
He couldn't smell the moldy room anymore.
<br />
He took a small bite, and it was so very good.
<br />
A memory of his grandmother came to his mind.
His mom's mom.
<br />
When he was only three or four, they lived with his grandparents until Grandpa died.
<br />
Grandma died right after that.
<br />
Mom said she couldn't live without him.
<br />
They had to move then, and things were never good again.
<br />
<br />
But he remembered Granny making <br />
chocolate chip cookies every Saturday morning.
<br />
She let him help stir with the big wooden spoon in the bowl that seemed bigger than he was,<br />
as she added cup after cup of flour to the butter and sugar.
<br />
Then he helped her form the perfect spoonful balls of cookie dough onto the pan.
<br />
He even remembered them sharing the last bit of dough together,
<br />
cause it wouldn't make a good sized cookie anyway.
<br />
He could remember the smell of the kitchen when the cookies were baking.<br />
He thought he remembered the scent seeming to linger for days.
<br />
Grandma always made a few batches to take to church the next morning.
<br />
They would all gather after preaching for coffee and cookies.
<br />
Those were happy times.
<br />
He hadn't thought about granny or church is years.
<br />
It had always made him sad, so why think of those times.
<br />
<br />
But now, as he ate another cookie, more slowly this time,<br />
it seemed like the best thing to think on.
<br />
He listened to the church fella today, as he ate the cookies.
<br />
He was talking about peace.
It made sense today.
<br />
He didn't feel rushed or angry right now.
<br />
The rest of the ex cons, were listening too.
<br />
No talking or heckling the preacher as was usual.<br />
It felt safe here.
<br />
He hoped he could hang onto this feeling, <br />
this peace he seemed to have
until the next time they met, <br />
the day after tomorrow.
<br />
He would try.
<br />
What a nice thing for someone to do for them.
<br />
Home baked cookies.
<br />
He wondered if there would be cookies next time.
<br />
He decided that this would be a good day.boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-5969846942172480392013-02-18T10:13:00.001-08:002013-02-18T10:13:53.240-08:00It's the little thingsIt was a day to celebrate!<br />
Well, nothing monumental,<br />
but she was finally, after six weeks,<br />
released from her dreaded crutches.<br />
The sun was shining and it had stopped snowing,<br />
but it was a bit too cold to venture into the state park<br />
for some photo opportunities.<br />
She decided on breakfast instead.<br />
<br />
Three pancakes, two eggs, two strips of crispy bacon<br />
and all the coffee she could drink!<br />
She felt so free!<br />
As she sipped her coffee, and opened up her kindle,<br />
she continued to read the story she was struggling to get interested in.<br />
In this chapter, a girl was being helped into and out of a car.<br />
<br />
The memories of her early marriage days,<br />
when her husband would offer the same kindnesses,<br />
flooded back to her.<br />
She had been married over twenty six years now,<br />
and those days seemed to be so far away.<br />
She let her mind wander.<br />
Out the window, into the crisp chilly air,<br />
the bright sun who had been hiding for what seemed months appeared<br />
and there were sounds of the people near her talking.<br />
<br />
A young girl was explaining that she learned to set the table in gym class.<br />
This caught her attention and brought her back to the present.<br />
The small girl, in gym class, had large forks, knives and spoons, <br />
to arrange on a table during a relay race.<br />
They had to be in the proper order or you got sent back to the beginning.<br />
<br />
This seemed cute until the memory of her mother <br />
teaching her this task every mealtime, <br />
made her long for simpler times.<br />
Everything seemed so difficult these days,<br />
and no one really just talked anymore.<br />
Everyone was on their IPhones, or Ipads or Kindles.<br />
Hahaha.<br />
She did like the convenience of her many books on one purse sized device.<br />
<br />
She looked out the window once again, and saw an elderly couple <br />
leaving the restaurant.<br />
She was bundled up in a fur collared coat, and had on a a very bright,<br />
orange, yellow and white silk scarf to keep her hair in place.<br />
He was wearing an old well loved baseball cap and red plaid wool jacket.<br />
She saw them heading to a mini van.<br />
He scurried in front of her to open her door.<br />
But it wasn't the passenger side van door he unlocked and opened.<br />
It was the driver side door of the old blue pick up truck<br />
with the carpenter's union bumper sticker.<br />
She slowly scooted into the seat behind the wheel,<br />
he closed the door after making sure she had her seatbelt in hand,<br />
then meandered around the truck to take his own place in the passenger seat.<br />
As she looked at him, she realized that he was very old, nearing ninety at least.<br />
His wife was probably at least ten years his junior, and did all of the driving now.<br />
<br />
How sweet that he still opened her door.<br />
She could only imagine the embarrassment and struggle it took<br />
to finally succumb to giving away his privilege.<br />
<br />
She breathed in, took the last sip of coffee,<br />
paid the bill and drove to her own home.<br />
The dog could be walked a short distance today, <br />
even though the doctor had said two weeks.<br />
It was so very sunny and the puppy had gained three pounds, as she had,<br />
healing and lounging since the accident.<br />
Three or four houses down and back would not hurt either of them.boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-19342949836190820282013-01-21T14:24:00.003-08:002013-01-21T14:24:48.343-08:00What makes old, Old?<h3>
<span class="vk_ans vk_dgy">old</span> </h3>
<div class="vk_sh">
/ōld/<div id="pronunciation_flash" style="display: block; height: 0px; position: absolute; width: 0px;">
</div>
<span class="speaker-icon-listen-off" data-s="old.mp3" id="speaker_icon" jsaction="dict.l" style="margin: 0px 0px 1px 6px;"></span></div>
<div>
<table class="vk_txt ts" style="margin-top: 20px;"><tbody>
<tr><td><div class="vk_gy vk_sh">
Adjective</div>
<div>
<table class="ts"><tbody>
<tr><td style="padding: 0px;"><ol style="padding-left: 19px;">
<li class="vk_txt" style="list-style-type: decimal;">Having lived for a long time; no longer young.</li>
<li class="vk_txt" style="list-style-type: decimal;">Made or built long ago: "the old quarter of the town".</li>
</ol>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td style="height: 10px;"></td></tr>
<tr><td style="padding-right: 5px; vertical-align: top;"><div class="vk_sh vk_gy">
Synonyms</div>
<div>
<table class="ts"><tbody>
<tr><td>ancient - aged - olden - antique - former<br />
<br />
I was standing by the stove, waiting on the tea kettle to heat,<br />
stirring some old lime honey I bought two years ago,<br />
wondering if I added it to my blueberry/pineapple tea<br />
if I would get botulism.<br />
<br />I recalled a recent visit with my sister.<br />
My mom was over and we three were making tea.<br />
My mom poured the water too soon before boiling<br />
and I had to microwave it and re steep the tea.<br />
<br />
I remember looking at my sister as if to say<br />
"what is she thinking?"<br />
Why would I even feel like that?<br />
Haven't I ever made a silly mistake?<br />
Why does she deserve ridicule?<br />
I'm sure my children wonder at my imperfections and slips all the time.<br />
Is 73 old?<br />
Now that I am nearing 50, it sure doesn't seem that way.<br />
I always thing of my mother at my age now.<br />
It throws me when I realize she is tired ad doesn't have much stamina.<br />
So is my 90 year old grandmother old?<br />
Does being confused, feeble, unable to walk more than a few steps, <br />
or unable to remember the last topic of conversation make you old?<br />
Can you be old at 15?<br />
<table id="entries">
<tbody>
<tr><td class="index"><em> </em><br />
<em> </em></td><td class="word"><em>old soul</em></td><td class="tools" id="tools_1721098"><span class="status"><b><em></em></b></span></td></tr>
<tr><td><em></em></td><td class="text" colspan="2" id="entry_1721098"><div class="definition">
<em>A spiritual person whom is wise beyond their years; </em></div>
<div class="definition">
<em>people of strong emotional stability. </em></div>
<div class="definition">
<em> Basically, someone whom has more understanding of the world around them.</em> </div>
<div class="definition">
</div>
<div class="definition">
I know that I feel very old and out of touch </div>
<div class="definition">
when listening to my two twenty something daughters.</div>
<div class="definition">
Our age difference was never more apparent</div>
<div class="definition">
than when I was in Texas with the two of them.</div>
<div class="definition">
They chatted, partied, discussed things I had never even heard of.</div>
<div class="definition">
I was very content to tag along, </div>
<div class="definition">
absorbing some of their energy, but in reality it sapped mine.</div>
<div class="definition">
Is that old?</div>
<div class="definition">
I just got word that my 3oth high school r3eunion is this summer.</div>
<div class="definition">
So does that mean I am old?</div>
<div class="definition">
My mind feels 23.</div>
<div class="definition">
These days my body feels 73.</div>
<div class="definition">
I am breaking down and oh so ready to build back up.</div>
<div class="definition">
After the broken foot heals, I will slowly, hopefully get back in shape.</div>
<div class="definition">
Since my break, and sitting with no weight on my foot,</div>
<div class="definition">
I cannot believe how quickly I tire.</div>
<div class="definition">
This weekend my youngest took me to church, </div>
<div class="definition">
out to lunch then to Target to get a few groceries.</div>
<div class="definition">
I could not keep my eyes open past 5:30.</div>
<div class="definition">
My word.</div>
<div class="definition">
</div>
<div class="definition">
I recently heard that my great grandfather was apt to say when feeling down:</div>
<div class="definition">
"I've showered shit and shaved and ready to go."</div>
<div class="definition">
Which makes perfect sense to me.</div>
<div class="definition">
</div>
<div class="definition">
"You are only as old as you let yourself feel"</div>
<div class="definition">
So, I am going with 48 today.</div>
<div class="definition">
Watching is slowly snow all day, knowing I do not have to get out in it.</div>
<div class="definition">
Writing reports on breeds of sheep for my spinning class.</div>
<div class="definition">
Texting with my husband and oldest daughter.</div>
<div class="definition">
Healing.</div>
<div class="definition">
</div>
<div class="definition">
"Old is as old does"</div>
<div class="definition">
Next week I will focus on 38,</div>
<div class="definition">
although there is nothing wrong with 15, 48, 90 or 73.</div>
<div class="definition">
They all have their positivesd and negatives.</div>
<div class="definition">
</div>
<div class="definition">
"Forget what they say about the teenage years.</div>
<div class="definition">
There is something about maturity</div>
<div class="definition">
that allows one the freedom to grow without fear of</div>
<div class="definition">
reprisal or criticism - and that is huge!"</div>
<div class="definition">
</div>
<div class="definition">
I will never look at my mother's missteps with judgement again</div>
<div class="definition">
for I will soon be her age and my children will see me, </div>
<div class="definition">
hopefully as still 48, wondering when I got old.</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-30366647242686241102013-01-18T10:53:00.000-08:002013-01-18T10:53:15.477-08:00Roxy Iron Heartmy daughter bought a dog last week.<br />
a two year old rescue besenji and boxer or pit bull mix.<br />
I think her theme song should be Little Bitty Pretty One by Bobby Ray.<br />
Just seems to fit how I imagine she prances.<br />
<br />
My head if swirling with stories of this little girl.<br />
And even as a companion for Karl, a fiction piece my daughter wrote,<br />
that I am in love with.<br />
I wish I could kick her into gear to write about this character that I am so enamored with!<br />
<br />
Maybe if I give her some prompts:<br />
<br />
Roxy apparently is a fence climber.....10 feet chain fence at the vet's to get to her neighbor lab.<br />
I imagine the lab being afraid and Roxy leaping clear over, landing with a puff of dust,<br />
to comfort the new arrival.<br />
You see, Roxy was scheduled to be put down before the local shelter took her in in June.<br />
My daughter adopted her in January.<br />
Roxy was on the jogging program.<br />
Good thing my daughter is a runner, <br />
although Roxy seems a bit annoyed when V must take walk breaks.<br />
<br />
My youngest believe that Roxy was in a prison gang, thus how she escaped so many close calls.<br />
I imagine a Hogan's Heroes adventure, with fluffy, timid Charlie as <br />
the sidekick the lookout, the one who pretends to be injured and cries out in pain <br />
to get the attention of the evil ice people.<br />
His only defence is chewing on his leash he carries around his neck.<br />
<br />
I believe Roxy needs a turquoise collar (pink is too feminine for Roxy Lion Heart)<br />
with a lam'e cape attached at the back.<br />
Roxy also has a tattoo!<br />
Oh the vet says it was given to her after she was spade.<br />
Silly vet.<br />
It is the mark of the string bearers!<br />
( You should definitely get that as your next tattoo V!)<br />
<br />
I imagined Karl having adventures in bumper cars at a carnival,<br />
Trekking across the lands in search of.......<br />
meeting all kinds of interesting quirky folk.<br />
It makes me happy now that he has companions.<br />
You see, Karl is simple and kind.<br />
He is easily distracted and fooled and led astray.<br />
Now with Roxy Lion Heart and Charlie for friends...<br />
maybe these companions are found along the trek...<br />
they work together.<br />
<br />
Yeah.... I am geared more for children's books.<br />
I'm sure, especially with the original Karl stories, that an adult fiction could be written as well.<br />
Kind of like Stephen King's Dark Tower series <br />
or Mrs. Murphy Mysteries by Rita Mea Brown ...<br />
I can imagine adult and children's books written with the same themes <br />
only for different readers.<br />
Can't you see parents and children reading the same book, <br />
and discussing common threads?!<br />
But not needing the other to enjoy your age's book.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
So, I will put writing prompts down occasionally, and see where V takes them.boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-61922019906944396732013-01-15T11:09:00.002-08:002013-01-15T11:09:48.099-08:00BrokennessThis sucks.<br />
For nearly thirty of my almost fifty years, I have been independent, self reliant, the strong one who many turn to for help, a caretaker of needs and wants.<br />
Last week, I broke my foot. Oh, not just any break, but an "Oh Shit" from the doctor, break.<br />
And because I don't feel pain the way most do, I didn't even realize it.<br />
One day in a walking boot and the next day in surgery to put a plate in my foot,<br />
and I am reduced to an invalid.<br />
<br />
Yes, I am feeling a bit sorry for myself, but also, as I sit here and think,<br />
I have a greater respect for others who are not as healthy as I am.<br />
I cannot fix my own meals, shampoo my own hair, even bathe myself without help.<br />
My dear friend came yesterday for a visit and cleaned my bathrooms and kitchen.<br />
I sat in the family room in my chair and listened to the scum buster working.<br />
I felt blessed and self conscious at the same time.<br />
It's one thing to have someone vacuum for you, but bathrooms are very personal places.<br />
My ministry team at church has brought so much food to my house that we are all eating very well!<br />
I have had everyone tell me that if there is anything thing at all that I need, to just pick up the phone.<br />
<br />
I think of my grandmother who lives in assisted living.<br />
All of her personal preferences are gone. She has no privacy or choice or much dignity left.<br />
Along with her health, her mind is slipping away. <br />
A nurse found her the other evening walking the halls with nothing on but a depends on her head.<br />
I can only reason that she thought it was a shower cap or her night cap, and she was getting ready for bed. Nothing looked familiar, so she walked around trying to find the home she remembered so many years ago.<br />
My mother too, has health problems. Her heart is barely functioning, but she does the best she can every day. She has fallen more times than I can remember, all of my life. She has had to let others care for all of her needs many times in her life. My father is amazing and patient.<br />
<br />
My youngest daughter is my caretaker for a bit.<br />
She is amazing.<br />
Today she helped me shower. She adjusted the showerhead, put the shower chair into the tub,<br />
wrapped my right foot in a bag and helped me into the bathroom.<br />
She held my hand as I climbed into the tub and sat down.<br />
She wrapped my foot in a towel, put all shampoo, soap and loofa within reach and gave me privacy when I was settled.<br />
It felt wonderful and being that I am tall, I was able to adjust the spray!<br />
I was in tears, so grateful my daughter is so loving!<br />
She helped me out of the tub wrapped in a towel, and to my bedroom.<br />
She got my clothes out and powder and deodorant within reach.<br />
Then she dried and styled my hair for me.<br />I feel human again!<br />
<br />
What this made me realize, being a caretaker myself, is how considerate she is.<br />
Being a caretaker is a practical responsibility. Not many feelings or thoughts other than getting the job done as best and quickly as you can.<br />
Now I understand that showing respect to the patient is oh so very important.<br />
It's not just you doing what you can, but they are feeling helpless, emotional, embarrassed and hurting. It is a horrible feeling.<br />
<br />
So, sitting here in my chair, with my knitting, books, computer and tv remote within reach,<br />
feeling badly that my grandmother is in the hospital preparing to go into a nursing home,<br />
and I cannot even comfort her, I am grateful for all of the caring people around me and her.<br />
boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-71836746050779053342012-10-04T17:29:00.000-07:002012-10-04T17:29:19.832-07:00WindThe wind is blowing.<br />
The chimes, <br />
set carefully where they will be loved by the wind,<br />
are singing their personal, individual songs.<br />
A branch has fallen from one of the old oaks in the yard.<br />
The smell of fallen leaves permeates the heavy air.<br />
There is nothing like the smell of fall but this smell.<br />
As I walk around the corner, <br />
toward the one tree in the neighborhood,<br />
that dresses in her finest autumn colors before any other tree,<br />
I breathe in completely and soak up the scent.<br />
It is strongest here.<br />
I feel light, and thankful.<br />
My memories of holidays, youth, and happiness encompass me <br />
as the flurry of falling burgundy, gold and amber<br />
overwhelm my senses.<br />
Thick fuzzy cardigans,<br />
warm knitted wool socks,<br />
electric blankets turned to the highest setting,<br />
until I can no longer stand the heat,<br />
warm spiced apple cider or chai,<br />
brisk walks with the puppy in his overly warm for a dog sweater.<br />
All these thoughts have taken over my senses because of the sound<br />
of a robust wind shaking the evening calm and crickets.<br />
<br />
<br />
boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-80116502211680496722012-08-09T10:04:00.001-07:002012-08-09T10:04:59.797-07:00Old man.This short story is based on a moment in time.<br />
This particular moment was early one morning in Canada,<br />
at a Tom Collins coffee shop<br />
at the edge of a resort area.<br />
Terry was sleeping as he had driven most of the night.<br />
I of course had slept most of the night.<br />
<br />
As I did a bible study, drank some delicious coffee and ate a pastry,<br />
I noticed some movement outside of the window.<br />
The following is what I saw and thought about and became....a story around me.<br />
<br />
<br />
It's a chilly morning, but I've had my coffee.<br />
Strong and hot and black.<br />
And because I've been working steadily<br />
I've taken off my jacket.<br />
Now I just have on my jeans, Tshirt, orange vest, work gloves and visor.<br />
Summer is just about to begin,<br />
which means the work should be getting more steady.<br />
I'm ready for steady.<br />
Today me and the kid are working on building up the curb around the new road<br />
going off to the resort.<br />
The landscaper wants to add some flowers and bushes, so I am filling in the area,<br />
picking out the larger stones and smoothing it out a bit.<br />
I don't know where the kid is.<br />
He never seems to want to be part of the work these days.<br />
Some girl problems I'm sure.<br />
I'm just not interested at all in all that talk of girls, boozing and car racing.<br />
I'm going on my 72nd birthday in two months.<br />
It has been a good life for the most part.<br />
I'm glad I can still come out here everyday and do some physical work.<br />
Gets my mind off of things at home.<br />
The wife has been sick with cancer for the past two years.<br />
All the doctor visits, treatments and healing at home have been hard on both of us.<br />
I've had to take on more of the cooking and cleaning than I have ever done.<br />
But I don't mind. That also settles my mind a bit.<br />
I can turn down the hearing aids and just think my thoughts.<br />
Momma has gotten a bit more into complaining since she has been sick.<br />
I just can't seem to do much that meets with her approval,<br />
but I do what I can and just try to keep my head down and outta her way.<br />
<br />
Holy Shit!<br />
That kid nearly gave me a heart attack!<br />
Dumb kid!<br />
Guess he didn't see me working here.<br />
His mind was distracted like mine just was.<br />
He has gotten on the small back hoe and is moving some dirt around from the pile.<br />
But Crap~! He almost ran me over.<br />
<br />
I have to shovel some of that dirt around a bit more, <br />
now that he has added the huge pile to where I was working.<br />
The contractor is particular, and I have to concentrate on getting this dirt<br />
to the curb and not over into the street.<br />
Now that I'm listening for him, I hear the kid coming with another load.<br />
Shoot!<br />
Why doesn't he pay attention to what he's doing or where I am?<br />
He's just making more of a mess and I'm having to move more to where it properly goes.<br />
Again, he just tears up here and dumps the pile where it doesn't go.<br />
I'll stand in front near where I want him to drop the dirt this time.<br />
Maybe he doesn't know.<br />
<br />
Here he comes from the pile.<br />
Right at me.<br />
Good.<br />
Now maybe I'll get some work.....<br />
Whoa buddy!<br />
You almost ran me over!<br />
If I hadn't have moved you would have!<br />
What are you thinking?<br />
<br />
Oh, what are you doing now?<br />
What am I supposed to do, if you use the back hoe to smooth the dirt toward the curb?<br />
Clean up the mess in the street that you made?<br />
Pops, huh?<br />
I'm too slow, that it?<br />
Well fine, you can do it all yourself.<br />
I need a break anyway.<br />
I'll just be over here when you are ready to do it right.<br />
<br />
Three more loads and it's done.<br />
It does look ok around the edges.<br />
Well, the kid can gather all the shovels and tools then,<br />
I'm ready to pack it in and call it a day.<br />
Wonder how much longer they'll keep me around?<br />
Picking out rocks and sweeping the streets I guess,<br />
now that the backhoe seems to do the job of three of me.<br />
Not that I wouldn't have done a prettier job at it.<br />
The landscaper is gonna be pissed when he has to ready the soil.<br />
It would have been perfect if I had been allowed to finish.<br />
Things are faster, not as personal, and not as good as far as I can see.<br />
<br />
Getting too old I guess.<br />
I have had a hitch in my back, first thing for a few mornings.<br />
Sometimes it's a struggle to get these ol' legs going right away.<br />
But I eventually roll around.<br />
Cracking and sputtering like I do.<br />
<br />
Better get on home.<br />
The wife'll be surprised I'm home so early.<br />
Better stop and get some bird seed, and BB's for the gun.<br />
Those damn black birds have been devouring everything.<br />
<br />
It's nice to stroll around the Walmart with no time limit.<br />
Looking at the camping gear, tools and such.<br />
I don't need anything for the shop though, and camping is now for the grandbabies.<br />
That reminds me.<br />
Kimmy and her girls are going camping this weekend.<br />
I better pick up some propane for them.<br />
It's gonna be a bit nippy and the lantern will give off a bit of heat for them.<br />
Wish I could go, but I'll settle for fishing one day with them at the lake.<br />
That little Susan sure enjoys watching the minnows around the pier.<br />
She's just as happy to see the bluegill nip on her line in the shallows by the shore<br />
as she is catching a big fish from the boat.<br />
How I love that little one!<br />
Becky however is only interested in getting a tan and the boys.<br />
That one is going to be a heartbreaker for sure.<br />
She already has mine.<br />
<br />
Momma's asleep in her chair.<br />
Musta been a rough morning for her.<br />
I know she didn't sleep much last night.<br />
I'll be real quiet and try to not wake her.<br />
<br />
"Oh, hi Honey.<br />
No, we finished up early today.<br />
How you feeling?<br />
Yea, you need your rest. <br />
I'm gonna go outside and shoot some of those black birds away.<br />
Of course I can shoot them!<br />
My aim has never been better!<br />
You rest now.<br />
I'll make lunch after a while."<br />
<br />
I can still hear her bitching at me as I go out the back door.<br />
I'll show her.<br />
Who does she think she is?<br />
Is she never happy anymore?<br />
I can shoot some damn birds if I want to.<br />
For that matter I think I'll stay out here a bit after lunch.<br />
Glad I re-wove that lawn chair I got from the dump.<br />
It sure took me a time to find the mesh.<br />
No one fixes anything any more, they just throw it out and buy new.<br />
Ya, it may not look perfect, but it does the job for me sitting out here.<br />
She doesn't sit out here anymore anyway, <br />
so what difference does it make if some of the web sags a bit here and there?<br />
It is just as comfortable as a new one.<br />
<br />
Two black birds already out feasting on the suet.<br />
Just breath and aim.<br />
Ha!<br />
Don't tell me I can't hit a bird anymore!<br />
I still got it woman!<br />
Did you see that shot?<br />
First one and he's on the ground.<br />
I'll have to shoot him one more time in the head just to make sure.<br />
<br />
Oh.<br />
Poor little thing.<br />
That second shot put it out of it's misery.<br />
Why did I think I had to kill them to get rid of them?<br />
I didn't think it would be that hard seeing the pathetic little thing.<br />
Funny pit my stomach after that.<br />
I'll put the gun up.<br />
What good am I any more?<br />
Can't work fast enough,<br />
too soft to kill birds,<br />
can't even make a satisfactory grilled cheese sandwich.<br />
Guess I'll read the paper and maybe take a nap.<br />
<br />
MMMMM.<br />
Little arms squeezing my neck.<br />
The girls are here.<br />
<br />
"Help you string your fishing pole, huh?<br />
Well, I guess I have time to do that for ya.<br />
Yes, I'll be coming out early Saturday morning with my tackle box.<br />
You want me to bring you some coffee outta my thermos do ya?<br />
OK. I'll stop and get some cream and sugar for yours.<br />
Yes. I plan on staying all day.<br />
We are going to catch a mess of fish for dinner and I'll show you how to skin em.<br />
We'll have a big ol fish fry!<br />
Run over and give Grandma a squeeze <br />
then we can go out to the garage and fix up the poles."<br />
<br />
Maybe I do have some value after all.<br />
Susan still thinks I can do anything.<br />
I'll try my hardest not to let that little thing know any different.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-79558407591537412142012-07-30T14:47:00.001-07:002012-07-30T15:47:38.853-07:00How, if at all?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I am struggling so much today.<br />
I have had to learn so many things in my life so far.<br />
In my twenties, I was selfish and knew it all.<br />
In my thirties I had my head handed to me more than once.<br />
In my forties I have tried to learn grace,<br />
to keep my mouth shut,<br />
follow the path God has for me.<br />
<br />
But how do all these life lessons help loved ones<br />
who need to hear but don't want to?<br />
Am I supposed to be supportive and silent and allow them to learn<br />
their own life's lessons in their own brokenness?<br />
Do I offer insights and lessons,<br />
even though most of the time they fall of deaf ears?<br />
Do I plan times for others, even when all I really want to do <br />
is spin and nap and be selfish myself?<br />
I feel as though I have failed in two instances today.<br />
One I gladly joined, but kept tight chains over my tongue.<br />
The other was unexpected and I am afraid <br />
that while I was trying to find the meekness in words, <br />
my tongue escaped and I did more harm than good.<br />
Do I float through this life with loved ones,<br />
and only offer smiles?<br />
All their situations are different, as are mine.<br />
No one can live in my head.<br />
My own short comings hold me back so often, <br />
that I do not hear the Spirit when I need to hear the most.<br />
I hope I have learned to be content with what I am given every day.<br />
I try not to make too many plans, as they will inevitably be changed.<br />
My heart and gut are aching today because I can't fix anything for anyone else.<br />
It is a struggle to give it over to God and let Him work on <br />
others hearts and minds and bodies.<br />
I must let my mind focus on what I can do and not what I cannot do.<br />
So much of life is really so very simple.<br />
We just need to get out of our own way.<br />
We need to seek love and inspiration from those who are ment to give to us,<br />
and not those who are not in the path.<br />
We can only do what we can do at the moment.<br />
Only decide for ourselves the next step or action.<br />
If I fall, someone can help me up, but only I am going to feel the pain of the injury.<br />
I cannot expect anyone to feel my pain instead of me.<br />
That would be cruel.<br />
So why do we expect others to carry our burdens and make our decisions for us?<br />
And would we truly follow their plan?<br />
There is a saying: <br />
We see others and wish for their lives,<br />
but as soon as we get the problems we did not see,<br />
we would gladly give back and take our own with joy.<br />
<br />
So, after so much rambling, I will try to do what I can.<br />
I will offer thoughts if asked, but only part, and only if asked.<br />
I will pray for clear moments and introspection for my self and loved ones,<br />
because it is only from within,<br />
with God's help, <br />
that we can truly see what is choking our lives.<br />
More often than not, it is of our own making,<br />
and only we can change that.<br />
No one else should have to.<br />
<br />
But.....<br />
I digress, again.<br />
Let go and let God!<br />
<br />
<br />boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-4956216644385324172012-07-14T10:53:00.001-07:002012-07-14T10:53:47.374-07:00never an audience when you need one!Random ideas that come to me I'd like to explore further.<br />
Some of these happen on vacations,<br />
when my hubby calls and asks what I'm doing<br />
or just random thoughts that blurt out for no apparent reason<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Studying gooseberry vodka<br />
<br />
the pirate walking down las vegas strip with parrot on shoulder and can of beer in hand<br />
<br />
hitting a boat being towed by a car just because it would be impracticle to hit one in the water<br />
<br />
fox in the henhouse with a guard llama<br />
<br />
angels in the parking lot<br />
<br />
deer and homeschooling<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
to be continued and added upon<br />
ideas welcome :)<br />boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-17208752289919341452012-07-14T10:07:00.002-07:002012-07-14T10:07:50.950-07:00UntitledThis story will be a continuing work as I have many ideas roaming around.....so look for other pages to follow.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Marianne was on a break.<br />
The final straw was the "dog".<br />
Marianne had decided to clean house today,<br />
and started by watering the flowers in the yard.<br />
Because it had been so dry for weeks now,<br />
and her water bill was $85 this month,<br />
she chose to just go around the flowers with the hose instead of leaving the sprinkler on.<br />
The dog, who was normanlly Marianne's companion, was chasing after and barking at the hose.<br />
He would try to bite the stream and Marianne would spray him and laugh as he ran away.<br />
The last time he got totally drenched and ran away across the yard.<br />
As Marianne moved to the few vegetables that were struggling to grow, and produceing almost no fruit, she noticed the dog rolling around and snorting.<br />
Because of the drought, there was a very dry are near the fence.<br />
Really just a patch of dirt that nothing would grow because the dog was always on guard there<br />
to protect his yard from the neighbors' dog.<br />
Now he was rolling around in this dust, after being completely soaked with her hose.<br />
What a muddy mess.<br />
Giving him a bath was not the worst unexpected part of her day,<br />
it was that she had just bought two white easy chairs.<br />
She ran to turn off the hose as soon as she saw the dog head for the house!<br />
Why did she ever get white furniture?<br />
She thought it was a cool classic design as she was trying to fix up her recently emptied nest.<br />
However she had always been keen on letting the dog on the furniture since it was just she and him now most of the time.<br />
What a mistake.<br />
The chairs were always covered now with quilts unless company was coming, but that was rare.<br />
Marianne scooped him up into her arms and carried him to the bathroom.<br />
Once in the tub, he relented to his fate.<br />
He got her back though, and shook all the muddy water all around the batrhroom before the soap even hit his back.<br />
Now she will have to add the shower to her list of to do items.<br />
One of the few things next to dusting she hated to do.<br />
Since her girls had moved out, and her husband, the pilot was in the air mst of the time,<br />
things never really got too dirty.<br />
Marianne did realize though that she cluttered her environment with day to day stiff.<br />
She really needed to get more organized and put things away right away, instead of waiting for the weekend. It shouldn't be this hard to NOT put everything on the bar as she walked in the kitchen door.<br />
If something was missing though, that was the first place she looked and usually found the lost treasure. This was the first place people, and she saw as they entered the house, and it always made Marianne feel better if at least the kitchen was clean.<br />
Today however, she was taking a break after the dog's bath.<br />
Her oldest daughter Vicki had texted and said she was going to a cafe downtown to do some writing,<br />
and she had invited Marianne to come if she wanted.<br />
If she wanted?!<br />
That was a silly question.<br />
Marianne knew that her daughters were growing up and needed some space to find their independance and she had let them do that after a few months of tears and longing right after they had moved out. Figuring out who she was again after twenty years of being a mom was very difficult.<br />
As Marianne was finally getting on her feet again, the girls had started to want her company.<br />
It felt almost fair that occasionally when they texted, she had been out having lunch with a friend from church or having margaritas with her best friends, and was unable to join them.<br />
However, most times Marianne jumped at the chance to spend time with her girls and dropped menial chores and errands. She knew that eventually she would see them less and less, especially once they moved away or got married.<br />
They all had a wonderful relationship though, and knew that holidays and vacations would be what she lived and planned for! Hopefully retirement would bring her to a town close to both her daughters and her stepson and grandchildren.<br />
<br />
Peering out the cafe window with her notebook open and pen loosly between her fingers,<br />
Marianne sipped her breve latte. This was one thing on her very strict diet she could have.<br />
Her youngest daughter had mentioned that it was great that her mom was loosing weight, but there was never anything in the house to eat! She also complained that the dozens of homemade bird suet in the freezer and the meal worms in the fridge were very unappetizing.<br />
Marianne did love her birds. She rarely went to movies or spent money on activites.<br />
She spent her self appointd allowance on bird food and feeders and all things garden.<br />
She loved reading on the porch and watching th oriels eating homemade grape jelly, or the five different varieties of woodpeckers sparring for her suet. It took alot for Marianne to go fill the feeders in this heat, and the fact that there were so many grackles and blackbirds eating most of the birdfood, frustrated her., She was getting very good at hitting the feeders with the bb gun from the family room window though.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, through he window, Marianne noticed a young man walking back an forth on one stretch of sidewalk in front of her. He was a nice looking young man, maybe twety five, shaggy hair but not too long. Dressed nicely in tran pants and a plaid shirt. She was always looking at young men these days as possibilities for her daughters. They both had boyfriends, but Marianne knew they cvould be happier and better off single if not with someone else right away. This was not a subject to be broached again however, as Marianne had finnaly learned to keep her opinions to herself. What a tough lesson that was. So she just gazed out the window and wondered about this young man.<br />
He was carrying what seemed to be a video camera, and he looked like he was waiting for someone.<br />
Marianne wondered if he worked of rone of the local news stations. She looked around to see if anything was happeneing outside downtown. He pace for maybe fifteen more minutes.<br />
Marianne so desperately wanted to go out an talk to him. Ask him what was happening, find out the scoop. She was very nosey like that and always liked to be aware of things going on around her.<br />
She had been asking for a police scanner for years, but no one in her family would get one for her. Maybe she should ger her own.<br />
Also, if this young camera man was interviewing people, Marianne would love to be a somebody on tv. She wanted to be on a jury but was never picked in all her fifty three years. She never won the lottery or had any luck at all with the slot machines she sometimes played with her daughter. She never wanted to risk everything in one machine becasue if she lost quickly, she would have to go home as she was pretty strict with herself about over indulging on gambling. Not that she owuld ever bet the car or clean out the bank account, but losing money on something so frivilous seemed wasteful.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
(not sure I will keep this next part)<br />
<br />
............<br />
<br />
In her early marriage they had been very poor and had to learn to be frugal with everything.<br />
Now that Doug was making really good money, Marianne didn't have to worry at all, but she was trying to save for their retirement.<br />
Doug was gone most of the time these days, as he was taking more flights to also help with retirement. They both wanted to live on a small farm in Tennessee or Texas.<br />
Looking back, she never thought they would make it to retirement together.<br />
Being so young when they got married had caused them both to grow up quickly.<br />
Raising a family and moving around so much was stressful enough, but two independant people who were always right and the other always wrong was hard to get through. When Doug had decided to become a pilot, they both breathed a bit easier. He studied hard and took all his tests and exams and instructions very seriously. Then he bagan to travel. That had saved their marriage for sure.<br />
They had to begin to learn how to really talk to each other instead of shutting down when the other was wrong or hurtful. They began being reallyhonest with each other and thinking aobut what they said to each other befror actually speaking. Now Marianne realized what older couples in her life ment by the last years of marriage are alwyas the best. Hang on if you can, wade through the tough times because in the end, you will have become a better person yourself, and all the other's faults will seem unimportant. <br />
It was so true. Marianne didn't want to know what her life would have been without Doug in it, They were comfortable togegther. She didn;t have to pretend or put on heirs with him., <br />
She sometimes felt boring with other people. She didn't have a lot to say, and wasn't informed on current events and politics. Her hobby of spinning yarn was definately not a hobby many other people had any interest in, so she struggled with meaningful common conversations.<br />
This was ok with Doug. Bless his heart, he was trying to learn all the vocabulary and have interest in her blathering on about different types of fiber and spinning terms. In turn, Marianne was really trying to follow politics as best she could for him.<br />
Being comfortable with each other, and also having seperate interests is what Marianne learned to be one of the secrets to marriage. Spending all your time with your companion proved to be stiffling. And Doug was always there for her when she needed an ear or shoulder, as she was for him.<br />
They had definataely been through some hardships with inlaws, children and finances. Somehow it all worked out and they were on a new adventure together looking forward.<br />
.............<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Marianne took notes on ideas that were forming in her mind about this cameraman and what the possible reasons for his presence there, until he left. No reporter ever came, he didn't talk with anyone. Just a blip on her radar that started her mind wandering. She sipped the last of her latte adn wondered what her day would turn to next.boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-82280194573058419752012-07-13T12:17:00.001-07:002012-07-13T15:18:39.512-07:00It only takes a momentWhile traveling home one day from Chicago,<br />
I witnessed a heart warming sight.<br />
I wish I had taken a picture.<br />
Here is my version of what happened in another's voice.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtn51tzG5s3Xs83_NjLDSh8dnFj_W-JvDtZBWS7KB9Z3u_yDY3pqvN4f9brXt_Za-MfEjfWse4YCu3ah-We0JVJR4-5OpiNLSruqaGdbziZxXbdyH0jnKa-gBFR7_fRbAInqdkvhc7cJU/s1600/moped1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtn51tzG5s3Xs83_NjLDSh8dnFj_W-JvDtZBWS7KB9Z3u_yDY3pqvN4f9brXt_Za-MfEjfWse4YCu3ah-We0JVJR4-5OpiNLSruqaGdbziZxXbdyH0jnKa-gBFR7_fRbAInqdkvhc7cJU/s320/moped1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I feel like such an idiot.<br />
I finally saved enough money for some transportation,<br />
bagging groceries all year and even taking double shifts <br />
so my mom wouldn't have to drive me everywhere.<br />
It's so embarrassing to be dropped off and picked up by my mom <br />
in her gold granny van.<br />
I hate that van!<br />
So I made enough money to buy a cycle, <br />
but just enough to buy this beginner bike.<br />
Actually it's one step above a moped.<br />
.<br />
My mom bought me all this "gear"<br />
and said I couldn't ride if I didn't wear it all.<br />
I have boots, which are not cool at all,<br />
heavy blue jeans that are way too warm to be wearing<br />
on this hot summer day,<br />
a helmet that is so padded that a semi truck would not crack it,<br />
and with the visor, I feel like a bird in a circus!<br />
I have on a new leather jacket, again way too hot for this day<br />
and it's so stiff and...new!<br />
<br />
Mom made me take lessons from her brother on how to ride.<br />
I have been practicing for weeks now, in the church parking lot.<br />
I have passed my motorcycle driving test and have my permit.<br />
What more does she want from me?!<br />
<br />
So, this is the first time I am out on the real roads.<br />
I must admit that I am a little nervous.<br />
I'm glad my friend Mike, was working today,<br />
and couldn't come with me.<br />
<br />
I'm starting to feel a little bit more comfortable with riding.<br />
Trying to remember all the rules and watch for other drivers.<br />
<br />
I'm so alone out here though.<br />
That gravel on the last turn, really had me scared.<br />
I'm still shaking, <br />
and my heart is thumping in my chest as if it will jump out at any moment!<br />
At least this is the longest stoplight in town, and I can catch my breath.<br />
No one else is on the road.<br />
<br />
I hear some faint roaring.<br />
Beside me slows the most beautiful Harley Davidson I have ever seen.<br />
Black and shiny silver chrome.<br />
The guy riding it could be right out of Sons of Anarchy.<br />
Bald, dark wrap around sunglasses, tatoos everywhere,<br />
leather vest, and I can't see the name on the back.<br />
I'm sure it says hells angels or something like that.<br />
He's not wearing a helmet, but he has the best boots I have ever seen!<br />
They must have cost $400!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5PdhyTMpI301llWSugqHMQhFMds-LEhvZpRO812jp0QUsgODBikx3sm1hehUN9hQizebyx3TCmkCFBYtDDuYDsJSiLLWy6P_k6HautYMpQ-_35gOMiZ2C8hIRrh_q7s0I_j9HXh8Wslo/s1600/hells+angel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5PdhyTMpI301llWSugqHMQhFMds-LEhvZpRO812jp0QUsgODBikx3sm1hehUN9hQizebyx3TCmkCFBYtDDuYDsJSiLLWy6P_k6HautYMpQ-_35gOMiZ2C8hIRrh_q7s0I_j9HXh8Wslo/s320/hells+angel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
He looked over at me.<br />
I nodded at him, and he nodded back!<br />
He is looking ahead again.<br />
What should I do?<br />
Cyclists have a code don't they?<br />
When meeting up with other riders?<br />
But you really can't call my puny little bike a chopper.<br />
<br />
I'll rev the gas and see what he does.<br />
Nothing.<br />
No reaction at all.<br />
Rev it again.<br />
He looks over and I rev my gas again.<br />
I nod at him.<br />
Then he revs his gas!<br />
Oh my gosh! It sounds like the world is coming to a thundering end!<br />
This is so cool!<br />
He gives me a thumbs up!<br />
I do the same back to him!<br />
He smiles at me....I think.<br />
It's hard to tell if maybe he was just irritated and scowled instead.<br />
No, he revved his gas again as the light is changing and nods to me again!<br />
I'm nodding back!<br />
The light changes and he slowly rolls forward.<br />
<br />
I almost forgot that I was in the turning lane.<br />
I turn and follow the road, not even thinking where I am going.<br />
Maybe this isn't such a bad bike after all.<br />
Under this helmet and jacket, maybe I don't look seventeen.<br />
Think I'll ride around for a while more.<br />
What a great day!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5594933865201976213.post-53172779044070901292012-07-13T10:28:00.002-07:002012-07-13T10:28:28.590-07:00Beginnings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>For years I have enjoyed seeing those around me.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>Really seeing them.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>I sit at tables in restaurants, and listen to conversations.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>I stare out of the window in a cafe,</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>and imagine the lives of people I see.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>There are so many unusual, vibrant, interesting, messed up, glorious</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>people around, if you just look.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>This blog will hopefully put my mind at ease</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>as it has kept these thousands of ruminations floating around in my head for a lifetime.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>After a while I just need to dump and start fresh!</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>I have no intention of publishing, selling or </em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>entertaining anyone other than my self </em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>and those who choose to explore with me.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>Whew!
That was hard enough, just writing and intro!
</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>Look around, outside of you today!</em></span>boilingmarigolds.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11182338030804548884noreply@blogger.com0