happy stuff | Playing for Time

Month by month…

06 Sep 2025 2 Comments

***

Abundant August rains have brought us to a lush September, and fall should be a show of color. I love all of autumn but I may be prejudiced toward the month of September since it contains my birth date (today) so just know I’m doing some extra thinking. I staggered into a Facebook site last week called WDNC, populated by women WhoDoNotCare, and it’s as therapeutic as you might already imagine. In that vein and a spirit of celebration:

IDNC that I’ve never, in all these years, managed to fit the mold. Full disclosure, I still don’t even know where and what it is, so I guess that gives us the pertinent information right there, hm.

IDNC that on the little things I’m wrong more often than right, that’s just bad luck. On the BIG things I’m far more often right.

IDNC that I alone can say what qualifies as large or small in life.

There are many things I genuinely no longer care about and most of them are things I should never have cared about at all, so passing birthdays are good for perspective and a few other concepts like longevity, which reminds me… I’m not old. Not yet. Both of my grandmothers saw 96 with their minds in working order and I call that incentive. My mom had me in the same September in which she turned 20, so I always knew exactly how old she was. This year she would be 98 and likely still wouldn’t be “old,” so there’s some more perspective.

The state of human existence being what it is, I offer one piece of advice from this vantage point: Whatever it is, do it NOW.

And everybody still gets one special birthday wish, right?

Image by Judy Smith

Seems like just yesterday…

25 Jul 2025 Leave a comment

Photo by Kim Smith 07/2025

***

This week we’re celebrating our 21st wedding anniversary, a number that might confound the skeptics but makes us happy. Yesterday we had lunch in the Rozelle Room in the Nelson Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City, a space that lends itself to retrospection… perspective… and projection. I wondered out loud if we might have another 21 years in us and neither of us laughed, so we’ll see. I’d be 99 years old and Kim would still be the kid he’s always been, but what’s life without the challenges, right?

The Rozelle Room. It’s casually elegant and the museum is a 3-day experience, so we’ll be going back soon. Yesterday we primarily saw the Egyptian exhibition and the one for Photography, half of which is currently closed for renovations. It’s a pretty wonderful place and good for getting steps in if you’re counting.

So… starting on the next twenty. Can’t wait.

Image by Judy Smith

Fractured fairytales…

27 Dec 2024 1 Comment

***

Once upon a time, strange as it may sound, Christmas happened in a world that wasn’t ready for it, making things discombobulated and odd from the start of the season. Planet LOOK.AT.US. was out of sorts and feeling aloof from the whole affair. Things were not right in the kingdom and no one knew how to fix it. Such a different holiday it was shaping up to be, with far too much sadness in the mix.

But wait… since the task of Christmas is to lighten hearts and gladden the soul, I must give you, instead, the story of The Four Farmer’s Daughters… have you heard this one? Get another cup of coffee and pull up a chair, it goes like this:

Long ago, in a previous century, four daughters were born. Two sets of sisters, farm girls all. After high school came the usual endeavors that send people their separate ways… college, extensive travel, careers, partners, children, life. Circumstance and the passage of time eventually conspired to bring the four together again some years into this century, hours spent realizing how alike they are in their world view and code of living.

These four women, now mostly past 70, have not lost touch since, and won’t. In the midst of this barren-feeling lonesome Christmas season, everybody listened to their inner angel and they spent hours… again… sharing food and conversation and knowing nothing’s changed. Oh, out there in the world, everything’s changed, but real friends don’t. That’s a supreme gift to open, one that makes everything seem possible. Keep it real in 2025.

Image by Judy Smith

Things that matter…

27 Nov 2024 Leave a comment

***

Holidays are hard. There… I said it. As kids we rarely pick up on the nuances of family gatherings, we’re just there to see our cousins and eat fun stuff. And then life changes, as it is wont to do, and we learn how to celebrate on a different scale, how to hold room for our memories and feelings, how to appreciate everything. It’s a lot.

Some years ago we stopped trying to live up to the noisy food-laden holidays of yore and brought the house down a little with simple, and simply wonderful, comfort food, the National Dog Show, football, the chill weather, and much laughter. So as it turns out life is in great part about taming expectations. Kim and Rita cook and bicker in the kitchen while I keep myself available for mindless tasks, and behold, a luscious meal appears. It works seamlessly, and we’re appropriately thankful for various things all day, no stress required. I love it. The mood couldn’t be more comfortable.

Still. Our hearts remember the old times, and we think of them as having been magical… everybody happy and full of love, hugs all around, nothing but peace and goodwill. With everything hanging in the balance this year, we yearn for the unity and unconditional love we think we remember, and we try to go back to a place that was never really there… kind of like Brigadoon. Silly us.

If you’re still with me, thank you for indulging this minor fit of melancholy, which I shall now attempt to put back in the box with the double-secret code on the lock. Nobody needs that stuff on a day we’re just grateful to spend together, alive and well, so tomorrow will be about the right-now, the life we have, and the people we love.

I wish the same for you, complete with everything you need.

Image by Judy Smith

The way we look to a distant constellation…

18 Oct 2024 2 Comments

***

You know… if we hang around long enough in life it’s possible to learn a lot and pick up crucial perspective in the process. Some of the lessons are painfully, embarrassingly slow… some hit us between the eyes and demand immediate remedy. Life isn’t always a supreme challenge, but I admit to being shocked by how consistently it’s the same ol’ stuff over and over ad infinitum. This year has brought a succession of skin cancer surgeries, the most recent of which is still receiving scar therapy from the comforts of home. Other physical taunts, presumably related to the aging structure inside this skin suit, have raised their cheeky cries for attention to such an extent that I’m getting used to them, while not thrilled by their existence.

I’ve recently been reminded that some twenty-five years or more ago I watched my dad’s first cataract surgery on closed-circuit TV in Garden City, Kansas, with pioneer in the field Dr. Luther Fry, whose techniques at the time were cutting edge.

This week it was my turn and the technology has only improved by leaps and bounds since my experience with my dad. One eye down, second next week, followed by weeks of light therapy to fine-tune my vision. Meanwhile, until at least past Christmas, it’s my job to keep sunlight from invading my eyeballs, which in a 4th-floor loft with top-to-bottom east-facing windows is a challenge. The wooden blinds leave lots of leeway for sunshine, so until the sun makes it past the peak of our building every morning I’m schlepping around in here in my Official Old Person Post-Surgical Giant Black Glasses. I know Karma when I see it so I’m sure this is payback for all the times my friends and I giggled about the sweet lil’ oldies in their Double-Secret Agent glasses, but this seems a little excessive since our intentions were pure.

Everything feels slightly discombobulated at present, which will pass. The operative eye is nearly clear 3rd day post-op, but I’m caught between glasses and no glasses, so neither eye is 100% at the moment. Stuff that lands on the floor has to stay there unless I want to do deep-knee bends, which would no doubt benefit my skeleton. There’s laundry waiting to be folded, and my desk is looking very lived-in, but I can’t be bothered. I’ll get to it all when the disorientation fades a little more.

Our eyes and the rest of our senses are too precious for words, as are the brilliant dedicated people who help us keep them for as long as possible, which prompts an astounding realization: Somehow we humans have managed over eons to fashion a world that’s more good than bad, more joy than sorrow, more sweet than sour. Mostly. Sort of. Anyway, all things considered, it’s a place I’m not pining to leave, and I’m looking forward to seeing everything these eyes have been missing along the way lately.

Okay, having reached my max word-count on NICE, here’s this…

Truth.

Image by Judy Smith

This is…

21 Aug 2024 Leave a comment

***

If you’ve been following the Dove Tales, I need to update you a little. Let’s see, where were we…

The couple renting our balcony condo this summer, Bonnie and Clyde, have birthed and dispatched two sets of fledglings so far, the most recent being Orville and Wilbur, the Flight brothers. We left town for the day last Friday and when we checked the nest there was just one baby parked in it. Orville had clearly flown the coop earlier, but there sat Wilbur, stubborn as a post and seemingly disinclined to make any drastic change in his status. We told each other that was okay, he’d figure it out by the time we got home.

We get home and Wilbur’s still solidly ensconced in the familial nest, but now Bonnie and Clyde are using every trick at their disposal to try to dislodge him. They called repeatedly from the opposite railing. They stood and berated him from the sidelines. Finally they resorted to taking turns trying to literally shove him out, pushing mightily under his fat bottom but making no headway. Such was the state of things when we went to bed. Next morning the nest was empty and we’ll never know how the story really ended, as is the case with all wildlife attachments. We choose to picture fat little Wilbur out there in the East Lawrence forest, loving all the seeds available to him and eventually finding a round little wife with whom to raise a family. THE END.

As it turns out there was a bit of an emergency underway, which became clear as things progressed. B&C had obviously let Wilbur stay past his welcome and by the time they sent him on his way it was time for Round Three. The two of them disappeared for the afternoon in order to fill their bellies to sustain them for the required hours, then were back in the evening, literally billing and cooing on the railing before disappearing into the middle of the ferns where they can’t be seen with the naked eye. There are likely two eggs in the nest by now. When we’re afforded a glimpse I’ll let you know.

Image by Judy Smith

What nourishes you?

13 Aug 2024 Leave a comment

***

Delicious morning. It rained in the night, with increasing darkness after 8am and rain continuing for a few more hours. Southwest of us Emporia got 5″ of rain this morning, flooding their downtown and other areas, so an extra hour or two of early darkness for us is nothing. As a farm girl and incurable melancholic, rain is a lifetime friend and my happy place. It’s been summertime only every other week or so, days in the 90s and 100s interspersed with cooling, nourishing rain, to the point that in midAugust everything in sight is still green and glowing.

The lush tapestry outside my windows only adds to the sense of hope that’s been let loose in the world over the past month. Joy feels so much better than gloom and doom, and it suddenly feels okay to hope… to cautiously believe things will improve instead of digging deeper into hell. So yeah, rain, happiness, hope, love, it’s all cool, and the coffee tastes extra rich this morning.

Image by Judy Smith

Hope floats…

24 Jul 2024 2 Comments

***

What an amazing week this has been, and it’s only Wednesday. I’m trying to remember when my social media feeds last reflected so much fresh optimism and pure hope. My first and overriding thought, “Maybe this brave little experiment in democracy isn’t over yet,” is enough to keep me out of the slough of despond for the foreseeable future. Wish we could see ahead and know what that future looks like, but for now a flood of hope and possibility is more than welcome.

It seems that once the scent of hopefulness hits the air, it pulls the atmosphere along with it and other positives start lining up. Yesterday we got some things accomplished and put behind us that have been like a weight around my neck for months. In an homage to having survived all that (always with the drama!), I’ve given myself the day off to do exactly as I please, which so far has been to make the bed and sit down right here. My “To Do” list now holds seven things rather than thirty-seven, and I feel like a kid out of school for the summer. Life gets really good sometimes.

It would be tragic if the U.S. were to end on a sour note so I hope (see what I did there) that we’re all ready to choose hopefulness and run with it.

If life has felt extra challenging to you of late, if you’re feeling drained and exhausted all the time, if everything’s a muddle in your head, if your heart aches… I, by virtue of seniority, hereby grant dispensation and grace to give yourself a day off, or an hour, whatever you can manage without making things worse. If you need a rest, take it. Get by yourself and let hope soak in for a while. Your world will benefit from the resulting ripple effect.

💋💋💋

Image by Judy Smith

Lemme tell ya ’bout the birds & the bees…

15 Jul 2024 Leave a comment

***

… and the flowers and the trees
and the moon up above
and a thing called Love.

If you’re a regular here, you know that we hosted a mourning dove couple last spring and summer, watching them raise and fledge four sets of chicks. Kim named the parents David and Darlene Dove, and he subsequently gave monikers to each chick as they hatched. One set of babies was named Durwood and Donna, I remember. And then, right on schedule, D&D showed up here again in April this year and hatched Willie & SnoopDove… but lil’ Snoop failed to thrive. After that, D&D put one more set of eggs in the nest before they inexplicably disappeared, leaving the eggs to languish and making my Mama heart hurt.

So when a young skinny pair of doves started scoping us out in May, I feigned disinterest. Not gonna hurt me again, ‘k? Totes unaware of my sulky mood, they bypassed the wooden dove house to nest deep in the east end of the fern baskets… and kept their own counsel. Fine with me, don’t wanna know, everybody just stay in your own lane. One day both parents, whom Kim had by now named Bonnie and Clyde, were out of the nest, and a casual look-see told us that there was one tiny white egg. On a subsequent day, we saw that there were two. My interest was piqued, of course, but far be it from me to precipitate another vanishing act via simple curiosity. We’ve been stellar landlords to this point, sensitive to Bonnie & Clyde’s comings and goings, and taken care not to startle them overly much when we’re on the deck. Kim’s judicious about watering that end of the fern basket, so it’s a bit of a balancing act.

The picture looked a little like this when we finally caught on that the nursery was in business again.

Kim went out yesterday afternoon and there was just one fat baby in the nest. By evening there were none, so a new generation of Smith-hosted mourning doves has fledged and is likely somewhere in the East Lawrence forest. They looked a lot like this before they left… shockingly “huge,” when we weren’t even sure they existed at all!

Kim named this year’s inaugural chicks Batman and Robin, may they thrive and prosper. One of the parent doves was still hanging around at dusk yesterday, so we hope there will be eggs in the nest again soon. Que sera sera. Whatever will be will be.

In the interim, some lovely summer blossoms for all that ails our spirits.

Image by Judy Smith

E’erbody still here?

20 Jun 2024 4 Comments

***

Hot town, summer in the city
Back of my neck gettin’ dirty and gritty
Been down, isn’t it a pity?
Doesn’t seem to be a shadow in the city
All around, people lookin’ half dead
Walkin’ on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head…

Summer officially arrives here at 3:50 this afternoon, but as usual we’ve had a few show-off previews before the official date. I don’t mind the heat, I like the pace, love the sense of lazy freedom, so it’s all good. And warm. Eighties, nineties, how high will it go, boys and girls?

A cautious bit of news: We have doves again. A young skinny pair checked us out for a couple of days and decided to nest in one of our fern baskets. Our last glimpse told us there was one egg in the nest and we assume there’s another one by now, but they’re being very coy about the reveal. After Dave and Darlene disappeared I was hesitant about attaching names to any more of them, but Kim has christened these two Bonnie and Clyde and here we go.

BONNIE

CLYDE

It feels good to have them here and we’ll be looking forward to the babies. The sweetness and continuity are nice in a world where everything stays chaotic 100% of the time.

Welcome to summer, ENJOY!

Image by Judy Smith

An update…

04 Apr 2024 Leave a comment

***

As you know if you hang out here much, spring has been slow to find purchase this year. We’ve had pleasant days interspersed with cold ones, sometimes snow, often rain which we’ll take any time. But my body’s ready for warmth, benevolence, comfort, and energy. I’m ready for the mornings when I can open the balcony door and sit outside half-dressed (arms and legs totally soaking up the sunshine) with my coffee. I’m ready for the walks I’ll take, and I see that by next weekend we might be looking at temps in the 80s, high 70s, so clear the streets and sidewalks, people, she’s going out into the greater world.

Speaking of the balcony, open doors, and spring sunshine, look at THIS tiny harbinger! David and Darlene finally decided to move into their dove house yesterday morning, and by evening there was a new arrival. It will likely be joined by a second one soon, if not already, but Darlene’s a constant presence now so our view is blocked. She and David will be fattening themselves up for the long haul, so we’ll try to peek into the birthing chamber when they’re both out for a bit. As you can see, mourning doves are haphazard nest-builders at best, although they did add some dried grass before the egg dropped. Darlene must have been crossing her legs while procrastinating until the last second, but she’s an old pro now and all should be well.

So… despite the lingering chill in the air it’s officially spring at last. (No more frosts/freezes, please.)

Stay tuned for progress reports if you can stand it.

Image by Judy Smith

Happy Winds Day…

03 Apr 2024 Leave a comment

***

Hello on a chilly spring HumpDay. Good news: the sun’s shining and breaking up the clouds. Bad news: the wind’s blowing and it’s 42°. My bones are ready for warmth. For sunny days. For good news all ’round. Here’s a little piece of it: Dave & Dar have apparently decided to make us their spring and summer birthing center once again and the little dove house is no longer empty. We’ll be providing fern-y protection once we’re past our frost-free date. Meanwhile, here we are again and the continuity is comforting.

I may have a hat made that says “DOVE HOVERER.” It would go well with others I wear, including these:

And most of all…

Image by Judy Smith

First this, then that…

02 Apr 2024 Leave a comment

***

This morning it’s in the low 40s and raining intermittently out of gray skies, so winter is proving to be like many of us when it comes to letting go. Spring will gradually assert herself, however, until we’re finally in it for another cycle. Meanwhile, the yard people have been here all morning in the drizzle, mowing, raking, trimming, covering all the flower beds in rich black soil, creating the ideal environment for all those new little seeds that are just bursting to… burst forth.

Remember David and Darlene Dove, our faithful renters from last season? They’re back, big and round as robins, and in a rush to find housing. They scoped us out for several days running but we weren’t sure they’d stick around. The baskets of asparagus ferns they lived in last year aren’t planted and hung from the railing yet. Our frost-free date is still at least a couple of weeks out, so we provided temporary accommodations, anchored to the rail, and finally this morning they’ve been making themselves comfy. And when the baskets do go out, they’ll have a yard with its own canopy, lucky ducks!

We hope they stay. They’re no muss, no fuss, the babies are cute, and they add to the general sense of peace, with their soft cooing and their willingness to share the space with us.

Now the sun’s shining and I’ve written myself happy. Hope your day has been just as sweet.

Image by Judy Smith

I resolve…

29 Dec 2023 2 Comments

***

Do you make New Year’s resolutions, and if so what’s your track record? Every December I used to make a whole-ass list of things I aspired to do and be, and every year I was lucky to make it to the champagne before all was lost. At the end of 2022, I realized it was time to get a clue so I made just a solitary promise to myself… that I would savor and appreciate that first sip of coffee every single morning of 2023. I’m gratified to tell you that with two mornings remaining I haven’t once neglected to give thanks in my heart to Kim for brewing my morning Rx and to Jesús in Columbia who picked the beans. Simplicity and sincerity seem to be key to resolutions, and having observed how it all went over the course of an entire year I’m feeling emboldened to choose TWO worthy goals for 2024, neither of which will be named until 2025, or never. I’ll also be keeping my habit of coffee gratitude, as it’s a sweet one to cultivate and true thankfulness has to start somewhere meaningful.

Whether or not you’re putting it in the form of a vow, what do you want most for your own life and others’ in the coming year? Beyond the status quo I mean. Who doesn’t want world peace and tacos? What would set in motion the best sorts of events and changes for you, and what are you willing to do to make that happen? You’re thinking about it, right, have been since we realized the holiday season was upon us? Go back a sentence or two up there and understand that we’re not talking about change just for shits and giggles, but the kind of awareness that determines the direction we’re headed. It matters, always, and this is a handy time to reassess. Maybe keep this thought uppermost, though…

Image by Judy Smith

Moving right along…

26 Dec 2023 Leave a comment

***

We woke up to a dusting of snow everywhere except streets and sidewalks, and now (9am) the flakes are falling thick and fast. A few hours late for a white Christmas, but welcome anyway, soothing, and predicted to last into the wee hours on Wednesday. We MAY see some accumulation out of all that, but so far it’s settling like rain.

The Day After any major human observance usually provides for a bit of downtime, thanks to the inevitable sudden stop, when my thoughts turn to years past, other times, things seen, lessons learned, memories made. This Christmas Day was beyond sweet, other than the ignominious losses by all our football teams, but ce la vie. Rita suggested the menu, Kim cooked it all to perfection, and it was so stellar as to temporarily wipe the taste of defeat from our mouths.

Grilled Salmon Filets
Pasta in Creamed Pesto Sauce
Roasted Asparagus
Crostini

After dinner and between football heartbreaks, we played a hilarious game of Ransom Notes, which Rita won. We had two lifelong reader/journalers and a songwriter vying for best/funniest/grossest/most offbeat phrase, and it worked like it was scripted. Our reward, both winner and losers, was the VERY SPECIAL ICE CREAM, of which my baby sister became an instant fan.

A sweet time. We knew other family members were spending the day scattered but happy and cozy, which makes everything all the better. I hope your holiday was and is what you need it to be, here at the close of 2023. And I hope 2024 will be very good to you and yours. Keep it simple.

And keep it real…

Image by Judy Smith

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ALL the stuff …

Top Posts & Pages

These people know better but they read my blog anyway.

Join the conversation …

Categories

Were you looking for …

I choose favorites …

The Nitty-Gritty

COPYRIGHT

Winnowing the Chaff

Search My Site