Thursday's Thought for the Day....

"The only real security is not insurance or money or a job, not a house and furniture paid for, or a retirement fund, 

and never is it another person.

It is the skill and humor and courage within, 

the ability to build your own fires and find your own peace."

~ Audrey Sutherland

Wednesday's Wisdom....

You're never too old to learn....

This morning I made a new discovery on my cell phone.  It has a calculator!  

How handy is that? Who knew?

(Well, I suppose that most IPhone owners knew that and probably discovered it right from the beginning of ownership. )

I've always been a bit of a slow and timid learner when it comes to technology.  When computers first started to come into our home I was afraid that I would break something if I tried anything in the way of exploration on them.  It took years of the Englishman reassuring me that I wouldn't cause damage before I became brave enough to explore the new world of technology beyond the basics.

I often hear people my age or older (especially women) claim that they are "too old" to learn about the new gadgets or "apps" available today.  "Nonsense," I say to them!  And I often repeat the Englishman's assurance that it is perfectly safe to try.  Remember back to when we were learning to drive?  The process was completely overwhelmingly!  But all the angst and hard work necessary to get my license was certainly worth it.  I have found the same holds true for all the new technology.

Yes, I'll admit, it can be humbling to have to ask one of my daughters or the Englishman for help.

But that's OK with me.  The results are more than worth it.

 I've also learned to venture out and try new things on my own.

And I'm happy to report I haven't broken a single computer or phone in doing so.

What I'm really hoping to avoid is asking either my 5 or 3 year old granddaughters for help!

Now that would be very humbling!

Friday Fotos....

This sweet smelling lily attracted the tiniest hummingbird to our yard this week.  He also sampled from the hanging geranium basket and flower boxes in the front of the house.

On my first trip to LBI this summer, Daughter #1 and I treated ourselves to dinner at Howard's Restaurant.  This is their specialty: french fried lobster.  Their portions are more than generous, so there was plenty to take home for the Englishman.

This was last Friday's bountiful and colorful basket of freshly picked veggies from Argos Farm.

And this is a spinach, Gruyère cheese and bacon quiche I made from scratch with the fresh eggs and spinach from the farm. The recipe was courtesy of Mary Berry, an English food writer and television presenter.  I count myself among her vast following of devotees.

Wishing everyone a safe and restful weekend!

Thursday's Thought for the Day....

"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass on 

a summer's day listening to the 

murmur of water or watching the clouds float 

across the sky is by no means a waste of time."

~John Lubbock

Wednesday's Wisdom....

Ah, people.....

While I enjoy the ability to read the news and keep up with family and friends through the various "tech toys" I own and use daily, I am learning there are some areas I need to stay away from.

Like the "comments" sections, especially under news articles. 

My blood pressure can soar with just a few scans of the often mean, misinformed and just plain ridiculous things people write.  

And not very well, I must say, as a former teacher.  

Are spelling and grammar no longer taught in school?

I recently made the mistake of "commenting" myself on an article.  To my surprise, a woman saw fit to write a long diatribe, attempting to persuade me that her point of view was the correct one. 

I deleted it.

I've learned that I don't need to waste my time or jeopardize my serenity with such dribble.

Far better to just voice my "comments" aloud to the computer or,

 as the Englishman inquired of me yesterday, 

"Are you talking to the television again?"

Yup.

Tip for a Tuesday....

A Monday Memory....

And five, six, seven, eight....

My freshman year of high school, 1968, I joined the C.Y.O. (Christian Youth Organization) at my church.  One of the things that attracted me to this group was the possibility of performing in a variety show they put on every year.  Which had dancers.  And I just love to dance!

The choreographer and chief showman for this event was a Mr. Hayes.
He sported a crew cut, had a booming voice and accepted nothing less than your absolute best.
He scared me half to death!

But he certainly knew his stuff.  He could get a bunch of high school kids, who barely knew their right from their left, dancing their little hearts out within a couple of hours.
I knew right away there was a lot to be learned from him.

A quick "audition,"during which we were asked to do a few steps, and Mr. Hayes knew immediately where to place you.  He moved at lightening speed and it was quite a task to keep up with his directions.  But you soon found yourself caught up in the excitement of "putting on a show" and wanted to do all you could to please him.

I remember one number we did to the song, "Mr. Sandman." Dressed in our father's pajama tops and holding teddy bears,  several friends and I performed in the center aisle of the audience.  It was tricky finding our way in and out of the auditorium in the dark, but we seemed to manage it quite well despite our giggling. 
My memory isn't too clear on many of the other details.  I think we did the show for three consecutive nights.  It must have been a lucrative fundraiser for the church, as we always seemed to play to a packed house.  It was an experience I treasure.

Fast forward to the late '70's and my first trip to Long Beach Island.
I learned there was a theatre in Beach Haven, a sort of "Broadway at the Beach."
And I was not surprised to learn it had been founded by none other than Mr. Hayes, way back in 1950.

I've enjoyed attending several shows at the Surflight Theater over the years.  Each time I go, I can almost feel the presence of Mr. Hayes in the theater. I imagine him standing in the front of the stage, tapping his foot, snapping his fingers and shouting out, "and five, six, seven, eight....."

Joseph P. Hayes - Founder of Surflight Theater

Thursday's Thought for the Day....

"The receiving in life to me is one of the 

greatest gifts that we give another person.

And it's very hard.  Because when you give,

you're in much greater control.  But when 

you receive something~you're vulnerable."

Fred Rogers

Life's Journeys According to Mister Rogers

Things to Remember Along the Way

Wednesday's Wisdom....

"The more I think about things...."

I received a text a short while ago from one of my daughters.  A friend of her husband lost his very young wife this morning.  She had a brain aneurysm while at home, then died of a heart attack during surgery at the hospital.  The news both shocked and saddened me.

The following quote, from the film Notting Hill, then began to repeat in my head:
"The more I think about things, the more I see no rhyme or reason in life. No one knows why some things work out and some things don't. Why some of us are lucky and some of us get..."

These words are spoken by "Bella," a young female character in the film who was crippled following a fall down a flight of stairs.  And I thought, I'm with her.  So often, there seems to be no explanation as to why certain things happen.  Why a young policeman, who wanted to make a difference in the community he grew up in, was senselessly murdered.  Why people in robust health do unspeakable things to their children, while a loving parent or their child are threatened with a life altering diagnosis. Why a healthy young woman suddenly dies.

I've come to the conclusion that oftentimes there simply are no answers.  And that my time is better spent not in questioning, but in looking for ways to help, if I can, with has happened.  Saying prayers, listening wholeheartedly when someone shares their story, sending a cheering card or email are positive actions I can make.  

On Friday night, along with hundreds of other residents in New Jersey, I will be lighting my porch lights in memory of Officer Melvin Santiago.  And I will be praying for his family, as well as the husband and family of the young woman who died this morning.  Why? Because it will help me to feel there is at least something concrete I can do in the midst of all this sadness.

Care to join me?

Tip for a Tuesday....

Shut Off Valves

In case of an emergency situation or a leak which is rapidly flooding your home,  it is imperative that you know how to quickly locate the shut off valve to your water supply.

I asked the Englishman to show me where ours is located in our garage.
I took a photo and posted it, along with a description of shut off valve's location, 
on the inside of the utility door closet in our kitchen.
That way, anyone in the family will know where to run should they be in this house 
during an emergency.

Do you know where your shut off valve is?

A Monday Memory....

Feed the birds, tuppence a bag....

The Englishman and I drove up to the nearest Wild Birds Unlimited store this morning to replenish our bird feeding supplies.  We find great enjoyment in watching the loyal flocks of birds who frequent our tube feeders, which hang from a post in the front yard.  Cardinals, mourning doves, sparrows, chickadees and starlings are among the many varieties stopping by throughout the day.

My Dad was also a huge fan of feeding the birds in our yard.  He and my mother had a particular love of cardinals.  Having both been raised in New York City, they were amazed the very first time they spotted a pair of cardinals, who were looking to set up residence in their newly acquired front yard in the suburbs of New Jersey, shortly after their marriage.  Their delight each time they saw the colorful red birds never waned during the rest of their lives.

At their second house, and what turned out to be the family home of over fifty years, my Dad set up a bird feeder just outside the picture window located in the kitchen.  It was similar to the one pictured below.  My Dad would faithfully fill it with seed, in all types of weather, throughout the year.

I recently recalled a childhood memory of that feeder.  My siblings and I discovered that if you grabbed onto one of the perches for the birds, located on either side of the feeder, and pulled it back as far as you could.....

the feeder would then violently rock back and forth, casting the seed far and wide.

We thought it was hilarious!

My father, to our great surprise at that time, did not.

Well of course he wouldn't find it funny, I later realized.

Not only were we wasting the seed, there was a real possibility we would snap the pole and/or  break the feeder.  Getting ourselves knocked in the head may have also been of concern to him.

Amazing, isn't it, the number of times we may have viewed our parents as being unreasonable or overreacting to our childhood antics.   

Their reactions certainly seem perfectly understandable to me at this stage of my life, long after  becoming a parent myself.

Thursday's Thought for the Day....

"Forgiveness is unlocking the door to set someone free, and realising you were the prisoner."

Max Lucado

Tip for a Tuesday....

Keep the sunscreen handy!

Most of us have thought of a "healthy glow" as something to acquire during the summer months.

But since I want neither skin cancer nor wrinkles, I've chosen to faithfully slather on the sunscreen each morning.

In order to remember to do so, I now store the sunscreen in my bathroom.

Instead of applying moisturizer to my arms and legs, I slather on the protection.

Easy Peasy!

A Monday Memory....

 Tools of hair torture, from days of my youth:

Bobby pins

When I was quite young, my mother would curl my straight as an arrow hair with either bobby pins or pin clips.  She would twist and secure the hair following my shampoo, then cover my entire head with a net like scarf.  I would sleep, or try to, with my head wrapped tight as a drum.

Ah, the home perm.  The smell was horrible!

Brush rollers - held in place with either bobby pins or those painful plastic pins

Sponge rollers - softer to sleep on, but still most annoying.  

There were tiny, little "teeth" on each roller, over which the outer shell was snapped.

The hair dryer.  Why yes, the tube through which the hot air flowed did burn the skin if it touched your neck for any length of time.

First set of "electric" rollers.  When the red dot turned black, they were "ready to roll" as they say.

The curling wand.  Mine was neon green and emitted a burst of steam when the button at the top was pushed in. And yes,  one frequently burned their fingers on the hot wand.

In college, we used either enormous rollers or actual empty lemonade cans, secured with giant bobby pins.


If you too were a child of the sixties and seventies, then I 'm sure many of these hair apparatuses are familiar.

Thank goodness times have changed!

Having my hair colored is the only "torture" I currently volunteer to endure. 

Friday Fotos....

Happy Fourth of July!

May we all stay dry and safe today, despite Arthur's arrival.

Thursday's Thought for the Day....

“Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being & walk a way from every illness.  

I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it.  

But by sitting still, & the more one sits still, the closer one comes to feeling ill. 

Thus if one just keeps on walking, everything will be all right.”

                                                                                                                     ― Søren Kierkegaard

Wednesday's Wisdom.....

A recent question posed on Facebook asked, "Are there any movies you've seen more than once?"

Why yes, at least a dozen.  The first one that comes to mind - Love Actually.

Recent events in my life had me recalling a particularly poignant scene.  One of the main characters has the misfortune of being hopelessly in love with his best friend's new wife.  After many agonizing months, he chooses Christmas Eve, and a rather unique delivery, to finally confess this to her.

Holding a series of cards, he admits that he believes she is perfect and that he will be in love with her forever, or until she resembles a mummified body.  Oh, and by the way,  "Merry Christmas."

What always strikes me is not the declaration of love, but of his final word as he walks away.

ENOUGH.

He realizes it's time to stop wasting his life while yearning for what he can't have.

Time to just get on with it.

That word has been rolling around my brain for over a week now.

Enough.

Enough with the drama, the broken promises, the shoddy workmanship, the arrogance, the lack of caring, the "patting on the head" and on and on and on.

When I get to that point, I've learned I have to take action.

I need to value myself, and believe firmly I do not have to accept hurtful behavior or poor work.

 I then need to take action, and follow through on it, until I get results.

Enough already!

Because as they used to say in the commercial, 

"I'm worth it."

Tip for a Tuesday....

Here comes the sun....

I purchased this quilt in a lovely shop in Tappan, New York many years ago.  At that time, I kept it folded and hung on a quilt rack the Englishman built for me, in a sunny corner of our family room.

Note the word "sunny" in that sentence - now note the difference in color from one side to the other of this beautiful quilt.

Guessed my tip?

Be aware of the placement of items in your home in regards to the amount of sunlight they will be exposed to.

Clearly - it can have an impact.