An Officiant's Preparation

In 13 days, we celebrate
the joining of two lives into one.
The spiritual, public,
and legal affirmation
of uniting in holy matrimony.
The beginning of a new chapter
in the precious lives of Kirstie and Matt.

When Mr. Lee and I started courting
(don't you love the sentiment),
Kirstie, our niece, was a Barbie playing angel. 
Sunshine flowed from every fiber of
her being.  The precious little girl
grew into an amazing young woman.

As I pray and prepare for
my duties as officiant, I always reflect 
on marriage. What can I share
to plant the seeds of a forever marriage?


These two have had the blessing of
growing up in nuclear families.
Witnessing the longevity, resiliency, and
of spirit of marriage.  Kirstie's Oma,
my mother-in-law, once said, "Marriage
doesn't even get good until after 20 years."

It must be the seasoning of years of shared
experiences of joy and disappointment.
The richness of love only deepens
through the mountains and
valleys of life.  To survive a marriage must be
built on mutual devotion, patience and affection. 

My prayers for this couple
are simple.  Focus on a BIG marriage,
build a strong foundation formed on
faith, love, fidelity and confidence
in each other. Grow independently as
individuals but connected as husband
and wife.  Remain best friends in
all circumstances. Fall deeper in
love each day.  Give praise
in all things. 

May God bless you and keep you.

Pleasures of Pumpkin Cottage

The true secret of happiness lies in the taking
a genuine interest in all the details of daily life.
                                           
                                          William Morris


More than anything, I love being home.
Love love really love being home.
Home with my favorite people,
favorite kitties, favorite things, and a garden.

British Love

Uncle Joe, my brother, texts or emails  me
nearly every day.  Usually with nuggets of
wisdom, shared interests, or tidbits
of pop culture. 

Dancing Queen

Joe writes, 
In America, we have stupid reality TV.
In England, they have The Fabric of Britain
documentaries on knitting, embroidery and 
wallpaper.

Obviously, we don't watch reality TV,
stupid or otherwise, at Pumpkin Cottage.
We, like Joe, do enjoy
thrifting, handmade crafts, granny art, books,
celebrities, style, and design with
eclectic sensibilities.

Wings at the ready.

Uncle Joe, recommendations for the
week.  David Sedaris on Fresh Air.
The program is not yet available on
the link provided.

American Halloween

   
Jewelry by the British duo Tatty Devine.  
These girls are so cute and inspiring.

Missing Mae

Mae is Portuguese for mother.

Our mother gave sage advise.
She was a rock.
A pillar of strength for us to draw from.
She'd always cook our favorite meals.

If I pause, something she never did, I
can smell the warmth of her kitchen.
She always wore an apron.
She cooked from taste and love.
Baked from scratch.

She is right there in my mind's eye.
Sometimes when the distance between
visits was too long, she would
prepare a care package full of all my
favorite foods.

The box smelled like her kitchen, garlic, wine, and
cinnamon.  I'd eat and
weep with longing.

Years and years ago,  I miscarried my
second child, my mother was visiting.
It was providence for her to be with
me.  She was there to care for my
little one, clean up my loss,  and
comfort my heartache.

Months later, when the baby would have
been born,  I received a baby doll she had crocheted.
Unlike anyone else, she knew where my thoughts
were and exactly what I would need.  Something to
hold. 

Tend our wounds and mend our
hearts.  She longed for us as we long
for her still.

Parabens. 
Happy Birthday.

Counting Blessing

Every morning on the way to work I pray.

First, I lift His name in praise.
I thank Him for another glorious day,
I pray for family and friends by name, and finally,
I share the intentions of others who have asked me to pray.

Today, we will meet our friends, Todd and Jessica,
to lift a glass in congratulations, celebration, and
to say so long.  Mr. Lee and I are vested
in the well-being of this young and precious couple.
We, our entire family, love them dearly.

As their officiant.

They are moving to start a new adventure.
Many many blessings my dear creative ones.
We will miss your close proximity.


Remember to listen to your intuitive spirit,
seek support from like-minded people,
enjoy liquid gold (coffee), register to vote,
don't trust women with baby voices,
be served occasionally, continue making
pickled veggies (they are delicious),
and leverage your talents for good.


And dance wildly when you are sad,
What sound the fox make?

We are only a phone call or text away.

 

Wounded Warrior Chair

1 Thessalonians 5:18

Someone once described me as afflicted.
My girlfriends and I had years of laughter
over that one.
It doesn't even penetrate my armor any
more.  I find well meaning people say the odds things.

I have a colleague who says I watch
too much TV.  This may very well be true,
often while I sit crafting, reading or writing,
I listen to TV.  Most of what we watch is old.
Episodes of  I Love Lucy, Dick Van Dyke, and the
Andy Griffith Show. This colleague drinks every
night but I listened with a smile plastered on my
face and didn't provide a rebuttal. 
 
Another over eater, I can tell because she is
over weigh, too,  described me as a stress eater,
also true, but not something anyone needs to
point out.  I don't seek advise or comments.
I have a tendency to be shy, but open.
Individuals with internal wounds and bullies
alike seem to seek me out.

I feel every comfortable in my skin. In
fact, I like me, my husband says he adores me and my
precious children like me.


Here's what I know of this behavior, people
who point out your flaws are often deeply flawed.
It is their own failings they fear. To distract, they
project their venomous observations on their victims.
Better to turn the other cheek, not engage, and give thanks.

Let their words hang in the air. How do I show compassion,
with all my failings and disabilities,
spread joy?  Through the light of Jesus.

When Birte's husband, Fred,  passed away
she offered me his chair.  She had first
thought to donate it to the Wounded Warrior Project
but then thought I was her wounded warrior.

My affliction, is the result of a degenerative
disease, but she has witnessed the needling and
wanted to provide comfort.

Yes, yes, even in affliction give thanks.

Pumpkin Patch

An Autumn tradition.  

Nothing closer to my heart than searching a pumpkin patch
for the perfect pumpkin.  It's how I grew up. 
Hopefully, we are planting the
same seeds with our children. 

An Evening at the Theatre

Last night was date night.

Steve Martin and The Steep Canyon Rangers
featuring Edie Birckell at the beautiful
Fox Performing Arts Center in downtown Riverside.
Not only is Steve Martin a successful stand up and
actor, he is an accomplished musician.
This concert had everything. 

The most memorable lyric of the evening
was something like the chicken woke 
up happy knowing it wasn't fried.


I know exactly how that chicken feels to
simply wake up. To have a spirit of gratitude.
This song is new so I couldn't find it to share
but I will keep looking. 

Here's a fun song  Atheists Don't Have Any Songs.
A bluegrass murder song: Pretty Little One
And one of the group's train songs with a fiddle
solo.  Amazing. 

Friday night's concert was taped and will air on PBS'
Great Performances in March, 2014.
Please, look for it.

Thrift Store Passion

There is a satisfaction in the pursuit of
unknown treasures.

An unplanned visit to Palm Springs this weekend
yielded surprises.  A swim for Jacob and Holly.

Palm Springs is brilliant this time of year.
Warm but not too warm.  The quiensstienal
old Hollywood essence. There are fashionable hotels,
restaurants, and mid-century houses.

Mr. Lee and I relax by searching
the  shelves of thrifts stores.  Vintage sheets,
books, music for him, plastic pumpkins made in the USA
for me, granny chic, crochet doilies,
Madonna statues, and Pyrex.

Although, through the years, Mr. Lee has been
less hospitable to Pyrex.

Goodwill, Palm Springs

My tangerine cane

Mr. Candycane, changed my life.
At first, I thought a cane would mean,
 "I have given up."

Now, about 18 months after starting to use
a cane, I see my cane as a help mate.
A security blanket, if you will.

When the shooting pain starts,
I have my happy tangerine cane to
support me, pull the car door closed,
or knock something off the top shelf.

I don't recommend the knocking off
but it has come in handy.

OMHU, the makers of my trusty cane, have
been added to my blogroll.  Check it out
for encouragement.

October 1, 2013

I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

  

My mother had  a similar chair.

Cottage charm.