Thursday's Thought for the Day....

"Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get.  But if you work really hard and are kind, amazing things will happen.  I'm telling you.  Amazing things will happen.
                                ~  Conan O'Brien, 1/22/10, Tonight Show Farewell  


Conan is spot on with this one.  I have found it to be true.  In many ways, life did not turn out the way I expected.  Some things far exceeded my dreams, while others pushed me to draw on strengths I barely knew I had.  But the advice about working really hard and being kind.  That does pay off.  And amazing things do happen.  Just amazing.

Today I drove up to Connecticut to have lunch with an old college friend.  Yes, we are old. It has been thirty two years since we last saw each other at her wedding.  Oh we've sent the Christmas and birthday cards back and forth, sometimes filled with two and three page letters.  But it's not the same as sitting across from each other.

Ever hear of those "three hour lunches" business executives are said to have?  We had one of those today, but without the cocktails.  We opted for chocolate desserts instead.  We talked and talked and talked.  I don't think we even ordered for the first half hour.  We shared our tales of raising kids, dealing with ailing parents, her bouts with cancer and how we are grateful for our long term marriages.  It was wonderful.

Sharing the ups and downs of extended families, those who succeeded and those who fell apart, it seemed to me that there started to be a common thread.  Those who succeeded had taken Conan's advice and worked really hard.  They were, and are still, kind to everyone they meet.  Those who looked for the easy way out or for someone to do it for them didn't quite make it.  They have yet to find their happiness.

And while working hard and being kind don't always add up to an incredibly healthy bank account, they do add up to a life well lived.  Something I was grateful to share with an old friend over lunch today.

Off track....

I am so incredibly behind with my blog posts!  Spending what turned out to be a very loooong weekend at the "retirement" house has caused me to get off track and away from my usual routine.

On a positive note, I am extremely happy to report that I have in fact found a dress for daughter #3's wedding and it is currently hanging in my closet.  Last Monday evening, while unable to sleep, I "surfed the net" and found a couple of dresses to go in search of. With my eyes widely dilated from an appointment at the retina specialist,  the Englishman and I headed to yet another sprawling mall.  Trying on the first of three dresses, I came out to get the Englishman's opinion. He immediately said, "that looks like you".  And so it was decided.  What clinched it was when the saleswoman said that she thought it was meant to be - it was the only one left of that particular design and it was in my size.  She said she wasn't sure if I believed in such things.  I assured her I do and agreed wholeheartedly it was meant to be!

Much to do this evening, so I will keep this short, leaving you with a picture.  (No, not of the dress.  That will be revealed after the wedding!)  Here are some of the beautiful peonies from my front garden.  The first peonies I ever saw surprised me in the Spring of the year we moved into our first home.  I have tried unsuccessfully to grow my own in subsequent houses.  These are finally flowering and look stunning against their dark green leaves. Enjoy!

Rainy day Monday's....

When the weatherman announced this morning that it might be possible that some parts of New Jersey could see three inches of rain today, I thought, surely he jests.  But the downpours that have been occurring since around nine this morning lead me, I fear, to actually believe him.

"It's good for the grass," as the Englishman first told me many years ago, while looking out at what appeared to be a monsoon rainfall.

So what to do on a rainy day?  Why, go dress shopping for daughter #3's wedding, of course.  I'm disappointed to report that what I thought would be the easiest task involving this wedding is proving to be the most difficult.  Despite increasing my price range dramatically, now that I'm starting to panic, there was nothing to be found today.  I either have to loose enough weight in the next few weeks to resemble a starving model, or lose thirty years off my age in order to successfully wear what I am amazed designers consider "dresses".

My comment to the Englishman over lunch was that most of the dresses are either too frumpy and meant for someone in their eighties, or something only a "tart" would wear.  Since I am in neither category, I remain searching.

There was, however, a silver lining to our search today.  As we headed into one of the department stores at the far end of the mall, a young man motioned to us to enter his shop on the other side.  As we approached, I could see it was called "Teavana".  Ah, tea.  That I'm interested in.  And it doesn't matter what size I am!

As we walked in, the young man filled a tiny cup with an orange colored tea and handed it to me.  As I started to take a sip, I noticed the sign said it was called "youthberry".  I smiled at the clerk and inquired if he was trying to tell me something.  He laughed and said no, as he handed a sample to the Englishman.

My experience with tea has been mostly limited to Lipton, various flavors of Twinings and loose tea from Fortnum and Mason.  This youthberry?  Incredible.  Seriously.  The best tea I have ever tasted.  It had a sweet, orangey taste and the scent of it was amazing.  The Englishman and I sampled a couple of others, but the youthberry still topped them all. Without hesitation, the Englishman suggested we purchase some.

It looks as lovely as it tastes and smells divine.  

I should point out that the cost of the large container we purchased caused me a bit of sticker shock.  But like the hair color commercial suggests, the Englishman urged me to go ahead, saying "We're worth it". We also purchased some special brown sugar from Germany and a tea scoop.

After battling our way through the puddles and sheets of rain, we arrived home ready to settle in for a cozy afternoon.  How did we pass the time?  Why, sipping youthberry tea while watching "Escape to the Country" from the BBC, with a basset hound on either side of us.

Turns out, rainy days aren't so bad after all.

Thursday's Thought For The Day....

I don't care if I'm beautiful; I don't care what I am on the outside. It isn't about the outside.
                                                       Donna Summer

Oh how very right she was!!  It's all about who we are on the inside.  I believe that. I also believe we need to teach it to our children and grandchildren.  

"In the blink of an eye"

Miss M and I were watching a cartoon show the other day.  It's called "Cailou".  I find it both soothing as well as educational.  As we were watching, they were discussing a tree and showing how it would grow over time and develop. Only this tree grew dramatically to full maturity. Within seconds.  Literally.

It got me thinking.  Not only for my granddaughters, but for the rest of us as well, everything seems to have shifted into high gear lately.  Or at least the television and movies we watch appear to make it so. Time lapse photography can cause one to think that erecting a forty story building can happen overnight.

Maybe all this high speed camera work and visual effects are causing me to actually believe that life can move quicker than it does.  Maybe that is what is slowly sapping my reservoir of patience.  Some days I gaze out my kitchen window and wonder why the flowers haven't grown ten inches overnight.  Really.  I start to think maybe they just aren't trying hard enough.  Then I have to remind myself that I'm looking through a window on real life, not at a television screen.

I also wonder what Miss M thinks.  She watches another show with her Mom in which the characters travel in a special spaceship.  They have a red button they push when they need to go faster.  The other day, while I was riding in the car with her, the traffic started to slow us down and M implored her mother to push the red button so we could go super fast. "Sorry", her mother replied, "that's only on the tv".

So I'm adding to my list of grandmotherly things I want to do with the girls as they grow. Teaching them to actually "stop and smell the roses" has just been added.  Reminding myself to do the same seems a good idea too!

Today would have been.....

.... My Dad's 99th Birthday.

This is one of the best pictures I have of my Dad, Vincent, and I, taken after my college graduation ceremony.  It was rare that he looked so happy and relaxed in a photograph.  My Dad was normally watching the "photographer" carefully, making sure they were holding the camera properly, had the flash on, etc. and would end up with an anxious look on his face.

My Dad really enjoyed his birthday.  He liked a good steak or pork chops for his celebratory dinner, always with potatoes, and preferred lemon cream pie to cake. Gifting him with a new tie was always a safe bet, and he acquired a large collection of them over the years, which hung on the inside of his closet door.  I always loved it when he'd let me choose one for him to wear.

My Dad had often talked of wanting to live to be 70, but he only made it to 69 1/2 before collapsing in my Mother's arms one exceptionally warm December day in 1982.  Not achieving that milestone, and knowing how very much it meant to him, made his loss that day even more painful.

My Dad was born and raised in Brooklyn. He was 13 years younger than his sister.  His mother had given birth to four children in between them, but none survived past the age of two.  As a result, I think my grandmother spoiled my Dad a bit, watching him carefully, feeding him lots of rich foods, anxious not to lose another child.

There was a cute story about one time when his mother was sitting on the windowsill of their apartment, located in a four story apartment building opposite the elevated train.  As she was washing the windows, she looked down and noticed my father, then about five years old, walking down the street.  Stunned to see her little boy out of school, she shouted down to him to stay right where he was - she was coming down!

Upon questioning Vincent, my grandmother discovered that his teacher had given him some money and sent him on an errand to the local shop.  I think her response to that answer was along the lines of "we'll see about that" as she firmly took him by the hand, marching him quickly back to the school.  Upon arrival, she found his classroom and confronted the teacher. She told her in no uncertain terms that Vincent would not be going out on such missions again.  She informed the teacher that she did not walk her child to and from school every day to make sure he was safe crossing the streets only to have her send him out alone.  I can just imagine the look on the face of that teacher!

Growing up during the Depression, my grandmother urged my father to find a secure job and stay there.  Permanently.  He obviously took all her advice to heart, because he worked for the Book-of-the-Month Club for 48 years, starting in the shipping department and working his way up to an executive position. He retired just a month before I gave birth to my first daughter.  Giving my Dad a granddaughter was probably the best thing I ever gave him.  He simply adored her.  How I wish he could have seen all my girls grow up.

It is from my Dad that I get my love of books.  My Dad used to sit on the front stoop of his building, reading anything he could get his hands on while the kids on the block would play stick ball. You know how when you are little you think your Dad knows just about everything?  Mine certainly did, as a result of all those years of reading.  No matter what subject you brought up, he would know a little something about it.  And if he didn't?  He wouldn't rest until he found a book on it for you.

They say you either marry someone just like your father, or the exact opposite.  I'm pleased to say that the Englishman has many of the same wonderful qualities that I loved in my Dad.  He is loving, loyal, strong, tender, supportive, honest, hard working and very adept with power tools.  During one of the last conversations my Dad and I had, when he was at my house a few weeks before he died, was one in which he summed up how he felt about where I was at that time in my life.  He said, "I don't know how you fell in to all of this, but I'm awfully glad you did."

I am too, Dad.  I am too! 

Miss you....

You never know.....

Ever have the experience where something happens to you that seems to be almost a wrong turn, but it ends up to have been a very good thing indeed?  One of the first that I recall of that nature happened to me in high school.

It was my Senior year and I had signed up for all my classes.  The perfect schedule, or so I thought.  The first day of school I was summoned to the Guidance Department where I was informed that my schedule didn't work for them and some changes were necessary.  The biggest obstacle?  They couldn't find a class for me during fourth period.  The only thing available was "Secretarial Procedures".

In those days, you either took college prep classes or classes designed to train you for a secretarial career.  Knowing I was college prep, the counselor felt bad that a secretarial course was all she could offer me, but there really was no other choice.  Who is the teacher for this course I enquired?  Mrs. Tischer, my former typing teacher, I was informed.  Oh thank goodness, I thought.  Mrs. T was very familiar with my struggles to conquer typing. I spent countless lunch periods repeatedly typing page 5 of the term paper we had as our final.  That was the page where you had to indent and single space a short paragraph.  It was a nightmare, but I digress.


So at the ring of the bell for fourth period, I walked into the Secretarial Procedures class with some trepidation.  I knew the other students had been together for a couple of years, learning shorthand and advanced typing, etc.  Mrs. Tischer, bless her, explained to the girls that this class was not my first choice,  and she asked everyone to be patient with me as I tried to catch on.  We were given our textbook, Clerical Office Procedures, and as you can see, I still have it.  It became a sort of Bible for me.  

Much to my surprise, and Mrs. Tischer's I suspect, I loved the class!  I enjoyed working on the tasks we were assigned, the neat and tidy aspect of it all.  The information all seemed to make sense and I could see how useful it could be.  My fellow secretaries were extremely supportive, as was Mrs. Tischer.  The payoff was just a few years ahead.....

When I graduated college I had a degree in Elementary Education with a minor in Early Childhood.  That was the good news.  The bad?  There were no teaching jobs to be found, at least for me.  My first job was in the restaurant industry - a story for another time. Sharing an apartment with my former roommate from college, I needed to find something that would pay better.  So I sought out an employment agency, hoping they could advise me.

My degree was all well and good, the employment agency lady said, but what practical skills did I have for office work?  Then I remembered my secretarial class.  The lady behind the desk seemed to think it might be enough to get me an interview somewhere, so it was listed on my resume, along with a slightly exaggerated description of my typing skills.  She advised me to smile a lot if I landed any interviews!

I did eventually find my way into an advertising agency where I worked first as a receptionist and then as an assistant to one of the buyers.  While I didn't feel it was my dream job, it paid enough for me to make rent each month and eat.

In the years since, I have found myself picking up my old textbook frequently to check on the proper way to write letterheads, address envelopes, file, keep financial records, and more.  The information I learned proved an invaluable asset when I was teaching.  It also aided me when one of my daughters would seek my assistance while working on a paper for school.

As it turned out, having no options for fourth period was actually a blessing. 

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day to my mother - who raised my brother, sister and I, pictured one Easter many, many years ago.  My mother made the grey coat I am wearing.  She was quite talented with the sewing machine.  

My mother taught me what to do and what not to do in raising children.  Most importantly, she taught me that no matter what happens in life, put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward.

And in the "circle of life" as they say, my sister and I are now "mothering" our mother.  It is both rewarding and bittersweet.

Then came the next generation.  Here I am with my three girls, my mother and my sister, at daughter#1's First Communion.  My life changed completely the day I gave birth to daughter #1.  It almost felt like a spiritual experience. The emotions it brought forth were so strong and have never subsided.  There is a pull, from my heart, to always love and be there for my girls.  And it also awakened a keener sense of love and caring for others.  

Daughter #2 has begun the Third generation, with her two daughters.  Can't you just see the love, joy and special bond they share?

How beautiful it is to watch the generations of mothering in my family - the traditions my mother passed on to me, and I to my girls, and now my daughter to my granddaughters.  Whether it is the lullabies we sing, the stories we tell, the way we celebrate holidays or care for our little ones when they are sick, all those somewhat insignificant gestures of love are being carried on.  They do matter.  They do make a difference in our everyday lives.  And they are remembered for the love they made us feel.

M is going to be a wonderful mother some day.  You can see it in her eyes....

Thursday's Thought For The Day....

I found this on Pinterest.   It comes from a site called "Quotediary.me"

I like this one.

I like to think of my friends who have helped me pick up.  

And of the times when they really couldn't do anything for me other than listen.

And they did.  They just let me spill it all out.

And I will be eternally grateful for that.

Sometimes, we just need someone to listen, so we can sort it out.  All that "stuff" in our heads.  Or all that real life has currently handed us.

Someone to listen.  Because once we get it out, then we can "get on with it" as the English say.

Heard any good stories lately?

A long, winding road thru my mind......

I suspect this post may turn out to be a bit on the long side, so perhaps you should take a moment to make a cup of tea and prepare to sit a while whilst I wander down memory lane.

This morning started with a few texts from the Englishman who was on his way back from an overnight business trip.  Just the usual back and forth - how are you? how did you sleep? how are the boys?

When I got to my computer, I noticed daughter #1, who works for him and accompanied him on the journey, had put on Facebook that her father had assisted someone with getting their bags on the train.  I wasn't surprised, being the gentleman that he is.  Then I noticed that the someone turned out to be Dionne Warwick.

As you can imagine, that prompted several "comments" under the post, along the lines of "did she tell you the way to San Jose?" and my inquiry, "will she 'say a little prayer for you?'"

In relating the story over the phone to my mother, I suddenly remembered a connection with the songs of Dionne Warwick from decades ago.  Following my graduation from college, my parents took my sister and I on a three week car trip as far as Colorado, up to Wyoming  and back.  Yes.  Three weeks.  In a car.  With my parents.  And I had just quit smoking.  Exceptionally poor timing on my part.

But here's the tie in.  At that time, the best source of music in the car, when out of range of decent radio stations, were 3 or 4 cassette tapes that my Dad had.  And one of those cassettes was - you guessed it - Dionne Warwick!  For days on end, we would listen to the same songs over and over.  After a while we almost became slap happy with the repeating lyrics and singing along.  One of the other tapes was the soundtrack to Mary Poppins, with Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke.  I've no doubt I could sing every word for you right now if you asked.  But I'm sure you won't!

So after talking with my mother, I remembered that the Englishman recently scanned two containers of color slides that I brought home from my mother's house.  Among them were some pictures from said trip out West. Which brings me to the next stop on my mind's little travel this morning......

Yes, this is me.  Standing on a wooden bridge, admiring my feet.  Why, you may wonder, am I not admiring the view?  Why, you may ask, do my hands appear to be wrapped around the railings?

This is why.

This is a photo of the actual bridge I was standing on.  It is Royal Gorge Bridge - the world's highest suspension bridge, about 1, 053 feet above the Arkansas River in Colorado.

Have I mentioned before my deep seated fear of heights?

Ah, now you see why I ventured just so far and no further.  I was, to put it mildly, terrified. My father, God rest his soul, thought that if I just got out there and saw I was safe, could somehow overcome my fear.

Nope.  Didn't happen.

He had to come out to where I was and peel my hands off the railing.  Seriously.

And then, as if that wasn't enough, I then boarded, with my father and sister, the inclined railway down to the river below.

Yes, the adventure continued.  I have found that closing one's eyes, very tightly, can almost fool the brain into thinking that what is happening to you is not in fact happening to you.  Almost.

As frightening as it all was, I wouldn't have missed it for anything.  I could see in my father's eyes that he sincerely believed that it was worth it for me to try to overcome my fear, to see and experience these parts of our country.  And more importantly, that he was there.  "I'm right with" he would say as he would hold onto my shoulders, nudging me towards the edge.  I like to think that he is still with me.

Ok, that's enough reminiscing for a rainy day.  The slides may start to pop up from time to time on this blog.  If only to tell the stories, so my daughters and grandchildren know me a little better.

When the Englishman posted the picture of me on the bridge, he captioned it saying I was waiting for him.

He's right.  I was.  That's why when I met him I thought, "There you are.  The waiting is over."

Tip for a Tuesday.....

Food Containers

Using food containers for items like cereal and pasta not only keep the items fresher, they make it much easier to see how much you actually have.

Heading to the store?  A quick glance will let you know which items you need to put on the list and which are adequately filled.

Fancy labels can dress up the containers.  These handwritten ones are working nicely for the moment.

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary, How Does Your Garden Grow?

Grandmom's Garden

Little Miss M arrived for her usual Sunday visit with Grandmom and Grandad yesterday.  First request?  To go outside in the back garden.  "I need to help water Grandmom's flowers" she called out.

So out we went.  M quickly spied the watering can and set off in search of the nearest flowers.  There was very little water in the can and she urged me to fill it again.  While watching me maneuver the hose, she decided "I can do it, Grandmom" and implored me to let her try.  I spent a few minutes showing her how to do it, then let her have a go.  

M proved to be quite capable with the hose and faucet.  If she had difficulty, she did not hesitate to say, "Grandmom, you do it!", as the water gushed out.  The two of us tapped our feet in a small puddle that formed when the can tipped over.  I thought to myself - I love this Grandmom stuff!  I don't have to worry about spills and rushing to get other things done.  I could be totally in the moment with M.

The teacher in me named each of the flowers and bushes as we went round the flower beds.  I also encouraged M to smell the flowers, rub the leaves and then smell the scent left behind on her hands.  There were a few "yucks" in there - she is obviously not a fan of rosemary.

We had the added bonus of watching the birds at the feeder.  M couldn't quite understand why they would fly off if she got close, or why she couldn't hold them.  We also saw some beautiful butterflies.  Those lovely creatures were much more cooperative and we saw several up close when we stood stock still and remained silent.

If you are a young mother or grandmother, aunt or friend of young ones, I highly recommend a small garden.  Or at the very least, a couple of planters filled with flowers.  Sharing nature is a wonderful experience for all of us!

(Thank you to the Englishman for the wonderful photographs documenting our lovely day!)

Before and After.....

*Sorry this post is a day late.  My computer simply refused to upload any pictures whatsoever yesterday.  It is feeling much more cooperative this morning, thank goodness!

Here is a before and after of the side entrance to our house.  (The only before picture I had is of daughter #2, as she was leaving our home on her wedding day.  Stunning, isn't she?)

And this is how the side entrance looks now - screen door removed, new door installed, shutters removed,  new fencing along the side installed.

Nice to put one's own "stamp" on a house, isn't it?  I think it really brightens up the area.

Thursday's Thought for the Day.....

"If you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain."

                                                     ~ Dolly Parton

This seemed appropriate today, given that we have had several days of rain and drizzle.  It has been most welcome by those of us trying to grow new grass on the spotted lawn and care for our numerous potted plants.

Several years ago while visiting Scotland, the Englishman and I were blessed to witness a complete rainbow, similar to the one pictured above.  I stood in complete awe that day, never having seen a full rainbow before.  It was magnificent.

So that's the literal interpretation.

When it comes to the "life stuff", I have learned that I have to realize that often hard work or hard times will precede the times of success and joy.

There is balance in nature.

There is balance in my life.

I like that.

To quote me......

So the other day I got a phone call from daughter #2.  She said she had something to tell me that would be much too long to text, hence the phone call.  Here was the story...

Baby C, granddaughter #2, had apparently dropped something on the floor while wiggling in her high chair.  Her older sister M, in retrieving it and placing it back on her tray exclaimed, "Whoops a daisy, Baby C.  That's what Grandmom says.  She says whoops a daisy!"

How cute! (Yes, I will be one of those grandmothers - the kind that gushes about her grandchildren every time you see her.  Don't you just hate that?)  It warms my heart to know that M is actually listening to me. Oh dear, I best be careful about everything I say from now on!

If you are wondering where I got such a phrase from, I confess that it is from the film "Notting Hill".  Hugh Grant utters the phrase while attempting to climb over into a private walled garden in London. It made me laugh the first twenty five times or so I watched the film.  Now it has become part of my vocabulary and it slips out frequently when I am with the "little misses" as the Englishman refers to them. Three year olds and infants just passing the ten month mark have a great tendency to drop things and/or themselves.  So "whoops a daisy" will be ringing through the neighborhood tomorrow when I'm babysitting.  Can't wait!

Oh, and do check out daughter#2's recent blog post - listed on the right hand side.  She has put an "explosion" of pictures of the girls.  They're just plain adorable!  (There I go again, gushing.....)

Tip For a Tuesday.....

Take a Suggestion!

Take it - Consider it - Use It

This past weekend proved to me the value of taking suggestions from those around you, giving them careful consideration and then maybe, just maybe, following through with them.

 I took various suggestions about food, table arrangements, flowers, seating, etc. and wisely used the bulk of them.  Those suggestions turned what could have been a very stressful situation into one of joy and mostly relaxation.

Sometimes it is difficult to let go of a picture you have in mind about how things should look or go.  Being open to seeing them in another light can be the basis for making "good" even better. 

And think how nice it must feel for the person who makes the suggestion when you accept and use it. They then feel like they are contributing too.  Sort of like being"part of the solution".

Such a relief to realize (and accept!) that I don't actually have all the answers!