Once again, sharing poems from the writing circle. I continue to be grateful for this experience. Can’t believe it’s been three years! Thank you, Ali, http://flashlightbatteries.blog for creating this beautiful space. ❤️
Sweet Dreams
Can you imagine? Camping in the woods Red-orange glow Of the campfire Smell of smoke Sleeping in a tent So serene…until Seven little girls Bathing in a Small tin tub On top of a Wooden picnic table Enter the picture- Warm water carefully Poured over each Little head The night air Filled with giggles As they dry off In front of the fire- Maybe not so serene Except for the Sweet dreams Of sleepy headed Children after A busy day Exploring The wonders Of the wild woods
A Little Longer
I seem to be Spending More time Inside my heart These days Blocking out The noisy world Ignoring my own Thoughts So as not To neglect A single memory of you- I know some Will fade With time But for now It is my heart That holds Each image Your quiet strength Your gentle smile Your sky-blue eyes It is a sacred job This holding So, I think I will remain Inside my heart Just a little longer
Seven-inch Vinyl disc Placed on A circle Within A magic box Turn the knob Watch it spin Forty-five Rotations Per minute Place the needle Listen as it Moves across The ridges Releasing Its power Releasing The music
I saw the movie Elvis yesterday with my friend, Marina. I grew up listening to Elvis. Watched his concerts on television. Remember the breaking news on the day he died.
I also remember dancing around a record player with my cousins at grandma’s house. Hound Dog and Don’t Be Cruel were our choice of 45s. We all loved Elvis.
Elvis had a style all his own, and it was controversial. People either loved him or hated him. But his roots were honest and truthful. And his contributions to our nation’s musical heritage are of great value. I am thankful his 45s were part of my childhood.
Surrounded By more shades Of green than My mind could Possibly imagine Attempts to match Each shade with A colorful Adjective Fall short Given up trying Instead, noticing The curious way The greens Compliment And contrast One another Their beauty Shining against The backdrop Of a blue sky Dotted with Fluffy, white clouds- Driving down The highway Wrapped In the soft Blanket Of Spring
Gart and I drove to Little Rock yesterday. We are spending the weekend with my mom and dad. Such a beautiful drive this time of year. So many trees budding and wildflowers blooming along the highway.
I had the opportunity to play piano at their church this morning. Not just a solo but also a special duet with my cousin’s grandson. What a treat!
That soft blanket of spring expanded to include family and music. Long hugs, I miss you’s, and sweet melodies. ❤️
Greetings from Massachusetts! My first visit to this beautiful state. Even though the weather was cloudy and rainy upon arrival, I quickly noticed the many shades of green. No matter where I looked, a different type of tree. Some familiar, others not.
This morning the sun is shining, and the sky is a perfect blue! I am excited to explore with my Aunt Martha and Uncle James. Such a treat! 💚
View from their lovely backyard in Lee, Massachusetts.
Chanel No. 5-Reblog from September, 2019
I don’t wear a lot of perfume. I’ve had a couple of favorites as an adult, but allergy sensitivities often keep me from enjoying them. Currently, I own one bottle of Chanel No. 5.
I’m not sure how long I’ve had this particular bottle. During our recent unpacking, it caught my eye. I could not remember the last time it was open. The design is so classic and pretty, I decided to leave it out.
One morning last week while getting ready for school, that bottle of Chanel caught my eye again. This time, I opened it and placed a small drop on my finger, then dabbed it on my neck and wrists. “It might be nice to wear a little perfume again,” I thought.
As the familiar scent filled the air, a flood of memories filled my mind.
When I was a little girl, visits to my Aunt Martha and Uncle James’s house were a treat. They, along with their children-Jim, Angela, and Brad-moved several times. I remember trips to Fayetteville, Memphis, and Louisiana. Typically, it was a week-long visit during summer vacation.
Some memories are as clear as a photograph. Dressing my cousin, Angela, up in her Raggedy Ann doll clothes. Riding the bus with my cousin, Jimmy, from Little Rock to Memphis and spilling an entire big bag of M&Ms. Kick boxing with Uncle James. Rolling a piano from room to room so I could play while Martha and James painted their house.
So, why did this sweet smell cause such reminiscing? Because Aunt Martha always had a bottle of Chanel No. 5. And when I visited, she would let me wear some of her perfume. Just a tiny drop on my finger, then dabbed on my neck and wrists. Such a treat for a little girl.
I continue to be amazed by the beautiful complexity of the heart and mind. The simple scent of perfume has the power to transport me back in time. It leads me to precious childhood memories. And it reminds me that the love I experienced then has only grown over the years.
I still live far away from Aunt Martha and Uncle James. I look forward to our visits, no matter how far apart. And I am thankful for time spent with them as a child.
Who would have thought a bottle of Chanel No. 5 could make such an impression on one little girl? 😉
Simpler days spent Playing outside Soaking up the sun Only after hearing My most recent Piano/violin solo As you Recently Reminded me You were a good Though reluctant Audience Do you remember Digging in the dirt Under the big oak tree? Silly childhood thoughts Making mud pies Digging to China Swings and slides And downhill Wagon rides Playfully pushing each other Off of Grandma and Grandpa’s front porch The winner To be named King of the Mountain The subjects Now laughing In the grass below Hours of kickball On the gravel road Many heated arguments Was the runner safe? The ball out of bounds? Problem-solving A few skinned knees Fights and tears Hugs and laughter We learned to be friends First friends Cousins
Mom holding me and my cousin, Rebecca.Born 20 days apart. ❤
Swinging with Rebecca.
Cheesy grins.
Cousins sitting on Grandma and Grandpa’s front porch. 🙂
Over thirty years have passed since I moved from my childhood home west of Little Rock, Arkansas. I always enjoy trips back to visit. And I’ve noticed an interesting phenomenon which often occurs on these visits. It lasts only a few seconds, yet reflects a lifetime.
Time at home typically includes seeing my parents, my brother and his family, aunts, uncles, and sometimes cousins. Time for catching up is a necessity. How are the kids? Gart? Your new job? Who’s getting married? Having a baby?
Our conversations flow freely from current life events and challenges to past memories. Laughter fills the air as we reminisce about things that happened years ago. Remembering those times is refreshing, solidifying, even more, the importance of family in my life.
And then it happens. For a few brief moments, I’m a little girl again. Skipping across the yard to visit my grandparents, aunts, uncle, cousins. My parents, aunts, and uncles are suddenly young adults once more. No gray hair, no aches or pains.
Just as quickly, reality snaps me back. I am no longer that little girl. They are no longer those young adults. Now, I am also a grownup, walking beside them. I may no longer be skipping, but my heart is smiling.
These moments leave me grateful. Moments in which the memories of childhood wash over me. Sweet moments in which I feel just like a kid again. ❤
I don’t wear a lot of perfume. I’ve had a couple of favorites as an adult, but allergy sensitivities often keep me from enjoying them. Currently, I own one bottle of Chanel No. 5.
I’m not sure how long I’ve had this particular bottle. During our recent unpacking, it caught my eye. I could not remember the last time it was open. The design is so classic and pretty, I decided to leave it out.
One morning last week while getting ready for school, that bottle of Chanel caught my eye again. This time, I opened it and placed a small drop on my finger, then dabbed it on my neck and wrists. “It might be nice to wear a little perfume again,” I thought.
As the familiar scent filled the air, a flood of memories filled my mind.
When I was a little girl, visits to my Aunt Martha and Uncle James’s house were a treat. They, along with their children-Jim, Angela, and Brad-moved several times. I remember trips to Fayetteville, Memphis, and Louisiana. Typically, it was a week-long visit during summer vacation.
Some memories are as clear as a photograph. Dressing my cousin, Angela, up in her Raggedy Ann doll clothes. Riding the bus with my cousin, Jimmy, from Little Rock to Memphis and spilling an entire big bag of M&Ms. Kick boxing with Uncle James. Rolling a piano from room to room so I could play while Martha and James painted their house.
So, why did this sweet smell cause such reminiscing? Because Aunt Martha always had a bottle of Chanel No. 5. And when I visited, she would let me wear some of her perfume. Just a tiny drop on my finger, then dabbed on my neck and wrists. Such a treat for a little girl.
I continue to be amazed by the beautiful complexity of the heart and mind. The simple scent of perfume has the power to transport me back in time. It leads me to precious childhood memories. And it reminds me that the love I experienced then has only grown over the years.
I still live far away from Aunt Martha and Uncle James. I look forward to our visits, no matter how far apart. And I am thankful for time spent with them as a child.
Who would have thought a bottle of Chanel No. 5 could make such an impression on one little girl? 😉
Growing up, I always looked forward to Christmas Eve. My Grandma and Grandpa Mahar lived next door, and we always had a party at their house that evening. Memories from those gatherings remain lasting.
Grandma’s house in more recent years.
The most important of those memories revolve around family. My grandparents’ small house would be filled with aunts, uncles, and cousins. Kids were running around playing, laughter filling every corner. Barely a place to sit down, and we wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
Grandma’s dining room table would be covered with all the goodies everyone brought to share. Homemade frosted sugar cookies, divinity, and fudge to name a few. Candy canes and fruit also added color to the table. We would snack until our tummies couldn’t take any more.
With all those treats, we’d need something to drink. Punch! Every year it was lime sherbet and ginger ale-so tasty and festive. I love the taste of that punch to this day. And of course, there was always coffee. 😉
Presents were sometimes part of this celebration, but oddly enough that isn’t what I most remember. There were so many of us, twenty-six grandchildren to be exact, I can’t even imagine preparing those gifts. But somehow, they did.
I’ve experienced this Christmas Eve party over the span of many years as a child, teen, and finally adult. My perspective may have changed, but the purpose did not change. It was a time of great joy which I always looked forward to, and a time I now greatly miss…
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. It will be a quiet day in comparison with the aforementioned parties. There will be cookies to bake and decorate, time with my family, and a Christmas Eve service with a message of hope and beautiful carols.
Our home this year.
Our house will not be full like my Grandma’s once was, but our hearts can be full none the less if we choose. They can be full because of the reason we celebrate.
Joy to the world, the Lord is come Let earth receive her King Let every heart prepare Him room And Heaven and nature sing And Heaven and nature sing And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing
Have you ever felt stuck? You take a step, suddenly realizing it was the wrong step to take. I remember having that literal experience once as a kid. My cousins and I were playing kickball, a common activity when we were together. Someone kicked the ball into a ditch, and I went to get it. The minute my foot sank into the mud, I knew I was stuck.
For a brief moment, I felt a sense of panic. It seems a bit ridiculous looking back now. What could possibly have happened? Maybe I’d seen too many television portrayals of people sinking into quicksand. You know the ones. A bystander yelling at the would-be victim to be calm and still, yet panic sets in and they proceed to sink until their hand finally disappears.
All I needed to do was stand still and call for help. And of course, help came. With a group of cousins around, I certainly was not alone. One of them assisted with pulling my foot out of the mud. The only casualty that day was my tennis shoe.
Many steps taken in this life are much less literal, yet come with much more significant consequences. So what happens when a step is misguided or poorly chosen? Certain decisions in my teen and young adult years left me feeling trapped, afraid my life was messed up permanently. Regret and guilt crept in, causing me to feel like I was sinking further down in the mud.
Thankfully I eventually discovered ways to counter those fears. Simply choosing to be still, although difficult, was a start. If I could just wait instead of panic, maybe another bad decision would be avoided. Next, it was time to call for help. That help came in different forms. A prayer, a simple phone call to a friend or family member-often both.
“Casting the whole of your care (all your anxieties, all your worries, all your concerns, once and for all) on Him, for He cares for you affectionately and cares about you watchfully.” I Peter 5:7
“…but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” Proverbs 18:24
A friendly listening ear often guided me toward a fresh perspective. There was not always an easy or instant answer, and that was sometimes hard to accept. Yet in spite of unavoidable consequences, with some guidance and faith, I was able to take a step in a new direction, no longer feeling stuck in the mud.
I’ve previously mentioned that my husband loves referring to me as a schemer. Once an idea enters my thoughts I work to make it a reality. This particular trait appeared way before meeting him. I’m certain my mom could testify. One example from my childhood stands out clearly above the rest.
I don’t remember exactly our age, definitely younger than ten. The “we” was me and my cousin Rebecca, a great schemer in her own right. Born only twenty days apart, we were always close growing up. Rebecca has five younger sisters. Imagine seven little girls when you added me to the mix!
~Me and Rebecca~
There was one specific instance when I’d been invited to spend a few days with my cousins. We all piled into their Volkswagen Bug and began the thirty-minute drive to their house. During the short trip, Rebecca and I immediately began plotting.
Our scheme? Secretly sneak out of their house and walk several miles down a dirt road to visit her Uncle Jack and his family. Why were we being sneaky? I have no idea! But we were all ready to go the next morning.
There was one small problem. Barbara, one of the younger sisters apparently overheard our conversation and insisted on tagging along. What if we said no? She would tattle on us, of course!
Off went our little trio, down the long driveway, and out onto the dirt road. We were not even past the house when we heard Aunt Mary’s voice, “Rebecca? Kelley? Barbara? Where are you, girls?” We attempted hiding in the ditch, but Barbara started to cry. Shushing her proved impossible and we were quickly discovered.
Our adventure was foiled, and talk about being in trouble. Aunt Mary took a switch to our legs while we ran around the yard like a bunch of chickens. Though the switch didn’t really hurt us, it did help teach us a valuable lesson. Seeing this now as a parent, I’m certain we caused Aunt Mary a great deal of panic. She was, after all, attempting to keep up with seven young girls.
~The six sisters and me all grown up~
Reminiscing over this little adventure has brought lots of laughter over the years. But the best part of the story is yet to come. To this day if we mention it around Aunt Mary, she still feels terrible about switching us! Forty plus years later! She has to be one of the most kind, patient, calm people I’ve ever known. Managing all of us girls while keeping her sanity had to be challenging.
~My mom and her sister, my Aunt Mary~
Did our scheming pay off in the end? Well, not exactly the way we had planned. We did learn an important life lesson about being safe. But even more important, we were reminded then and continue to be reminded now, how much we are loved.
Piano Girl 