Hiding in haiku …

breezes blowing soft

heat to follow on their heels

freezes coming next




Peach Smoothie

It isn’t summer yet, but it is warm out — 82 degrees at the moment — and these look good.

Peach Smoothie


Grateful for “the helpers” …

Perfect morning for a walk — it wasn’t very exercise-y, but the mild temps and light breeze made strolling, stopping for a sit on most of the benches along the way, looking at the geese in the meadow and turtles in the ponds, and talking, talking, talking an exercise in true happiness.  My steady-as-a-rock-through-anything husband listened to the litany of blues that have buried me since yesterday … lent perspective as only he can do … made me throw back my head and laugh … and as always, the light changed, even just a little.  Thank you, babe.

And this was at the top of my Facebook news feed when I sat down in my office …


Just stop


And really …

In the End


My life in liquids …

Coffee gets me out of bed in the mornings — rich, full-bodied, black and hot.

Water gets me through the day — clean, cold and crystal-clear.

Red wine takes me through the evening — velvety, lush, heart-healthy and shared.

Yes indeed, life is good.

The gift of sight …

Georgia O'Keeffe


I cannot change the world …

I cannot change the world


I don’t ask for much …

"She did not need much, wanted very little.
 A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water,
   a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms,
   a cozy bed, and to love and be loved in return."

~Starra Neely Blade

Real freedom …

real freedom



It’s interesting to realize that even for two people who are without adult supervision and making it up every day as they go, the weekends still have their own special rhythm.  Saturday mornings continue to hold the extra buzz of knowing the day is fully ours even before we open our eyes.  The other days too, but the unique freedom of the weekend is imprinted on our psyches after all our years in the work force.

Saturday in good weather is a day for taking the recycle bins to the drop-off station … working in the yard … watching televised sports.  But first comes The Breakfast – Kim’s unmatched rendition of eggs and hash browns, followed by a long soak in the hot-tub and nonstop free-wheeling conversation.

And then Sunday morning dawns. Sundays are full of music and books and walks, and all the conversation and laughter two people can share.   Sundays are about feeling safe and quiet and loved.  Sundays are so sweet that we find ourselves wanting to postpone Monday mornings!   Silly us …

Seek joy!



What counts …

Whatever your mindset, philosophy, religion or faith, most things can be reduced to this …

The Questions



Speaking of tolerance …

An observation:  In my dotage, my willingness to suffer fools gladly, tolerate deliberate obtuseness, subscribe to another person’s take on truth, and tightly censor myself seems to be slipping away.  I still remember how to do all that … I’m just losing my willing spirit.  Life is too short for endless suffocating banality.

Another observation:  The most annoyingly off-base people seem to possess not a shred of self-doubt.

And another:  It does no good to harbor hurt feelings over the thoughtlessness of other people — they’re simply wrapped up in doing the same thing I am … living life.  Okay, okay … so now we’ve come full circle.  Maybe I should put on my adult-size girlie undies and deal with it.

forget what hurt you


The critic doesn’t count …

It isn’t the person who doesn’t like me that matters, their voice isn’t what I will listen to.  Instead, I hear the whispers of those who love me … “Carry on.”

(from a wonderful shirttail cousin)

wish i could show you


When it’s over …

“When it’s over, I want to say:  all my life

I was a bride married to amazement.

I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it is over, I don’t want to wonder

if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,

or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”

~Mary Oliver



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