photo of the day
(Photo by Steve Rawley)
mountains
We went to the beach one week, and the mountains the next. I think sometimes I take Oregon for granted. Here’s a gorgeous pic of Mt. Jefferson for you, to start out your day.
(Photo by Steve Rawley)
photo of the day + 33 Ways to Stay Creative
Also, I planted Himalayan Honeysuckle, banana plants and lilies-of-the-valley in my yard this weekend. Also chicks-and-hens. And two melon plants. I think that’s all. Oh! And we transplanted more daisies that walked on over here from the neighbor’s yard. #iheartvolunteerplants
There was also a lot of pickin’ going on — raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, peas… I’m sunburnt, tired and happy now.
I keep thinking I’m going to get organized and start a gardening file, so we don’t have to keep saying, What is that plant, anyway? Is it annual? Perennial? The one that starts one year and blossoms the next and then croaks? (Bi-… bi-… bi-something plants.) (Biennial. Duh.)
Yeah, turns out I am not that organized, so I’ll put it all here, instead. Lists, lists, lists. Enjoy your weekend, wherever you are.
— wm
our weekend
(Photo by Steve Rawley)
QOTD: Plath
“I like people too much or not at all. I’ve got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.” — Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
happy Monday and have a delightful week!
(Photo by Steve Rawley)
Thursday Thirteen, back from the dead…
(Photo by Steve Rawley)
Nan wrote a Thursday Thirteen about all the things buzzing around in her head, so I will, too. (I didn’t know Thursday Thirteen was still around :) Happy about this!)
If you write one, too, leave me a note so I can go visit. This one is kind of serious, sorry. It just came out that way.
love,
wm
1) My husband took that picture. He takes all of the incredible pictures you see on my blog. I just write. Ha!
2) Looking forward to a four-day weekend! The schools here (Washington Co., Oregon) dealt with budget issues by declaring “furlough days.” Next school year, we’re looking at massive teacher lay-offs. Bad, bad, bad. But we live in a country that likes to spend money on bombs and fighter jets instead of kids, food and health care. We also live in a state where people don’t think they should have to pay property taxes, so there you go. I personally would opt for the kids, food and medical, but what do I know? I’m just a woman who doesn’t believe in war and hunger. Anyway, the district figured out the schedule very nicely. Since we have Monday off for Memorial Day, they gave us Friday off, too.
3) Whenever I start writing anything nowadays, I always tell myself, Keep it cheerful. Fact is, that’s difficult most days. This is the world we live in — where people who speak out against war are seen as freaks; where drug/alcohol abuse are the norm; where it’s OK that kids can’t afford to go to college, and are terrified to take out loans to pay for it. What is wrong with this picture?
4) OK. I planted a bunch of flowers in the yard — they look nice. We had some gorgeous, sunny weather, then a lot of rain, so the new plantings are soaking it all up and thriving.
5) Every day at around this time, I can hear the hawks shrieking as they fly overhead. It is a gift. Thanks, Mother Nature. My son was telling me on the way home from the library, Look at all we have out here! Bunnies, snakes, frogs, coyotes, hawks, ducks… wow!
6) My kids see every day as a gift. This is a good way of looking at life.
7) We checked out a ton of movies and a couple of books from the library: Hepburn & Tracy, “Cinema Paradiso,” “The Ides of March.” I finally re-started reading “Life of Pi,” by Yann Martel. It’s awfully good. Next up: more Dickens.
8) Recipes? OK. Here is an oldie but goodie. Crepes… mmmmmm… crepes…
9) The windows are open — I can hear the neighbor kids hollering. It’s almost summer… summer break… my birthday (48, damn! Two years from 50, woo-hoo ;)… our garden is already flourishing — herbs, potatoes, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries all coming on, along with the peas that we planted too late but are doing wonderfully, in spite of our negligence. Radishes… green onions… and tomato and pepper starts waiting to be planted. I love the Pacific Northwest for a lot of reasons, and gardening is always at the top of the list.
10) My daughter just finished up her spring session of art classes. She made some beautiful work this semester. She, like her Dad, is quite the photographer. Our house has turned into a showcase for their work.
11) My novel is trucking along. I’m hoping we wrap up my Grandma’s cookbook/memoir soon, and a friend is going to put together some illustrations for the children’s book I wrote. All good.
12) I am psyched for all the TV season/series finales that have been on. (No spoilers! I promise.) I have never watched so much TV in my life, not even when I was a kid. “Desperate Housewives” is over and done. Not everyone liked the series finale, but I thought it worked, especially the last ten minutes. “Revenge” had a great run — looking forward to seeing where they go with it next season. “American Idol” and the Stanley Cup hockey play-offs are both stressing me out in different ways. It’s only a game! (Music and sports having more than a few similarites.) (So why am I on the couch, holding my breath?)
13) If you’d like to read any of the other Thursday Thirteens I’ve written, head over to the sidebar — they have their own category, and apparently this is the 89th entry! Whoa.
Happy Thursday, everyone!
Poem of the Day: “Candles” by Carl Dennis
“If on your grandmother’s birthday you burn a candle
To honor her memory, you might think of burning an extra
To honor the memory of someone who never met her,
A man who may have come to the town she lived in
Looking for work and never found it.
Picture him taking a stroll one morning,
After a month of grief with the want ads,
To refresh himself in the park before moving on.
Suppose he notices on the gravel path the shards
Of a green glass bottle that your grandmother,
Then still a girl, will be destined to step on
When she wanders barefoot away from her school picnic
If he doesn’t stoop down and scoop the mess up
With the want-ad section and carry it to a trash can.
For you to burn a candle for him
You needn’t suppose the cut would be a deep one,
Just deep enough to keep her at home
The night of the hay ride when she meets Helen,
Who is soon to become her dearest friend,
Whose brother George, thirty years later,
Helps your grandfather with a loan so his shoe store
Doesn’t go under in the Great Depression
And his son, your father, is able to stay in school
Where his love of learning is fanned into flames,
A love he labors, later, to kindle in you.
How grateful you are for your father’s efforts
Is shown by the candles you’ve burned for him.
But today, for a change, why not a candle
For the man whose name is unknown to you?
Take a moment to wonder whether he died at home
With friends and family or alone on the road,
On the look-out for no one to sit at his bedside
And hold his hand, the very hand
It’s time for you to imagine holding.”
ps my late father’s birthday is on Friday. Happy birthday, Dad! and thanks to all those who loved him.
, 
.