Weekend Wrap Up

Do you ever have those weekends when time stands still?

Last weekend started with Doris Day
and Please Don't Eat the Daisies on
Friday evening.  Singing, kids,
and cute interiors.

Book reading, finished Signals by
Joel Rothschild. There are times
when a book must be read in
small bites.  I started this
book months ago but couldn't
get past the second chapter.
I simply was not ready, a
week ago the book started calling
me and I had to read through
to the end.  It's a three hankie
read.

Over the years, I have learned
to be patient, to accept, and
know the proper time will
present itself with books and
in life.

While Mr Lee, demolished our
powder room, I worked in
our urban garden, it had
become a jungle. The perfect
spring day and my awareness
of my mother in the garden
are soul quenching.

In this tiny garden is where I feel closest
to her.  The plants she lovingly planted.
The fig and strawberry guava trees
she started.

The kale Uncle Joe planted with her seeds.
Roses from her collection.
In the garden, I am inspired to push
through the pain to be enveloped
by her embrace.

Watched TV.
At Home with Venetia
Pioneer Woman

Mark, our oldest, is painting while we
visit Prescott, AZ.  Mr. Lee had to cut out
damaged drywall from a leak
under the sink. 

Happiness All Around

The years are ticking away.

Best Friends.

 

Play is hard work.

Necessary to develop character.

Laugh through the hurt.

That's Holly at the bottom of the pile.

Laughing.

Pinata time.

Learning to move through periods of 

darkness.  Preparing for years of 

standing in line patiently.

That's Jodi patiently reading Holly's birthday cards.
Without Jodi I don't think I could have
survived Holly's pregnancy.  We commuted to
and from work on the train.  Jodi carried
my backpack and walked me to our shuttle bus.
She encouraged and cheered me on.
When you don't think the Lord
is listening look around.

Pumpkin Cottage.

Nothing is better than having those
who love and support you
around you in times of difficulty and joy.

There's nothing you can do
that's more important than
being fulfilled.

                                      Jose Campbell

Top of the Morning to You

May green be the grass you walk on,
May blue be the skies above you,
May pure be the joys that surround you,
May true be the hearts that love you.

                                   Irish Blessing

Luck of the Irish, green.
A dream car, vintage BMW 2002.

I look good in green or red. 

Extra luggage for loot.

Mr. Lee says I have all the dishes ever made.  A slight exaggeration, 
but with the slide of the hand I am trying, note the rose tea
plate (4) came home with us.  I love you, Mr. Lee.  

All the credit for packing goes to the Mister.

Happy Monday, make it a great week.

We All Need a Friend

People don't always need advice.
Sometimes all they really need is
a hand to hold, an ear to listen,
and a heart to understand them.
                              Zig Ziglar

My friend, Lori, is that friend. 
Her parents, siblings,
and extended family are remarkable.
An All-American
family: loving, hardworking, inclusive
and supportive.

A few years back, our little family started
joining Lori's family at their
cabin to celebrate 4th of July.

For over 50 years the family has gathered
at the cabin to celebrate. My rendition
of the cabin when Lori's children were
small is depicted below.

Lori's mom entrusted me with her treasured
button box.  In it were more than 50 years
of collected buttons, lace, and snaps. 
I've used some of collection to represent
a winter day at the mountain cabin.

Last Thanksgiving, I asked the family
to each stitch a button unto the canvas.

Wes and Tori 

Stitched with love for a very special friend.
A friend who helped me create through the
darkness back to the light.

The Angry voice of a Soul

My soul is hoarse from screaming this week.
Barricade after barricade.  Scary, Scooby
Doo, turn back signs at forks in the road.
My mind takes over, I tell myself, you are an immigrant,
not even first generation.

I want my soul to shut up.
I love my life. Shut up already.
Don't tell me, I need to live my purpose.
Don't tell me, I am wasting my God given talent.
Please please let me be satisfied.
Please please stop calling me.

Here is how the theme presented itself this week.
It's only Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the Lenten
season. Time for sacrifice, reflection and prayer. 

Song of Solomon 3:4
The watchmen who make the rounds in the city found me,
And I said, 'Have you seen him whom my soul loves?'
4"Scarcely had I left them When I found him whom my soul loves;
 I held on to him and would not let him go
Until I had brought him to my mother's house,
And into the room of her who conceived me."

Really, the one my soul loves?  Words with depth of
meaning, so romantic and powerful they bring tears to
my eyes.  I have prayed for the Lord to stand down,
to allow me to enjoy my standard unexceptional, but
wonderfully blessed life.
To allow me to not to heed His call.

Then this: lissa rankin MD clink on the link to read
her post on "Are you overriding your soul with
should?"  Yes, everyday I override my soul with
should.  Even if I turn a deaf ear, my soul sends out
messages, brings people to me, has me turn the radio
dial, and stirs trouble.  I don't believe in coincidences. 

All I ever wanted out of life was to have a family,
have a job (not career), and create art.  There were only two
vocations I dreamed about: acting and teaching.
All the naysayers discouragement was enough.

Being called to vocation is not enough.
You must have courage to listen to your soul.
Is yours talking to you, mine is hammering in my
head and heart relentlessly.

It is  dissatisfaction, is it  fatigue plaguing you,
is it the dread of Monday on Sunday evenings or
is like me, a constant tap tap tap?

My Parents' Anniversary

My mother and father were married 42 years
when my father passed away. Married
on this date in 1946. They had five
children and immigrated to the States.
Brave.

Hortencia

Mother cared for father through six
heartbreaking years of Alzheimer's.
She was proud to say she only had
one man in her life and recalled
his full name even when she had forgotten mine.

Girl of our own

My parents were high spirited and spoke in
loud often argumentative voices.  They, however,
never uttered the word divorce.  They were faithful.
My mother would say the worse thing in marriage
is jealously and the best is peace.

My father was a man's man, talented storyteller,
gardener and animal whisperer.  The tears roll
as I reminiscence.  I could never suffer abuse at
at the hands of a man because my father
treasured me. 

My mother's calling was as a caregiver to people.
Mother's greatest regret was not becoming a nurse.
She taught me to live without regrets. 



They were both strong willed, compassionate,
and generous souls.  They were honest and
proud of their children and would have been
married sixty-eight years today.