Imagining Rolling hills Once covered In grass and dirt Graced With trees And fields As far as One could see Now paved Rolling hills City streets Perfectly lined With building After building Architectures New and old Juxtaposed To create An endless Visual puzzle Architectures As varied As the languages I hear while Waiting in a line For breakfast City of diversity In every sense I’m captivated And caught Between Wonder And Grief Marveling at All that surrounds While walking Down sidewalks So many call home
I like macaroni and cheese. In high school, that and baking a cake were the extent of my cooking. My mom even entered a recipe on my behalf for a church cookbook one year. Not a cake. Oh no, it was the instructions from the back of the Kraft macaroni and cheese box.
My kids also like mac-n-cheese. It was a staple in our house. Of course, I always tried to pair it with broccoli or green beans. Balanced meals, you know.
Some stories need to be remembered. Told over and over. Handed down from one generation to the next. And not just the ones considered to be pleasant. Also, the challenging ones. Those are the ones that show resilience, teaching valuable lessons.
This is one of those stories. And, of course, it involves macaroni and cheese.
My parents have always been hard workers. But like many others, hard work did not always keep hard times at bay. Some years were more difficult than others. And when I was little, money was tight.
My dad was a carpenter and was working on a house about an hour away from our home. One day, mom and I went along for the ride. Well, sort of. You see, he had not yet gotten paid for his work.
Macaroni and cheese…they had one box left. So, we went with him, taking the box along with us. While dad was working, mom cooked the mac-n-cheese on the job site in an electric popcorn popper. That way, all three of us would have something to eat for lunch.
That same day, the woman that owned the property retrieved a frozen chicken from her kitchen. And though my dad was a little uncertain about that chicken, it went home with us that afternoon, along with his paycheck. It was available that day after work.
Perhaps some would think of this as a sad story. Not me. I see the resilience of two people, able to keep going, making the best out of a difficult situation.
Anytime we talk about this time in our lives, Mom always reassures me. “No matter how hard things got, we always made sure you did not go without. You always had what you needed.” Without a doubt. ❤️
Truth is, not only did we survive as a family, but we also thrived! And though my cooking skills have improved a little, I still like macaroni and cheese.
The clock ticks One second At a time The sun shines One beam At a time And yet, with love One second Quickly becomes One thousand One sunbeam A multitude Flooding Darkness From the heart As two sit Together In this space Of time and light Giving no thought To the ticking clock Or the sun’s rays Only the desire To remain seated And experience The transformation From the measured To the unmeasurable
Enjoying Art and Nature Exploring Lessons Offered By history- Our own Others- Reminiscing Our combined Years of living In only seven Of these Precious Allotments Of time Each holding The same Number Of hours Each passing Too quickly
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? 😉
Five days Waiting As doctors Prepared To repair To replace Pieces of Your heart Restoring Strength to The rhythm Of your days Five days Worth Waiting
I snapped the first photo on Dad’s first day in the hospital. Due to COVID regulations, visitations were limited and only one of us at a time, so I was thankful for these moments. The second was on the day he was released to go home after open-heart surgery. Happy Father’s Day, Dad! I love you! ❤️
Certain spaces In this life Feel empty Certain spaces In this life Look dark Even though They are not- Not completely- Each of us Fills the moments Of our days Each of us Fills the span Of our years No matter The length Of said spaces Even when We are alone Light remains- Your light May seem faint For a time…wait Allow me To see it And together Our days Will be brighter Our years Fulfilled
Yesterday was the last day of school. The last day of school for a tough year. Teaching and attending during a pandemic created challenges we continue to process.
Certain times of the year felt dark, frustrating. But as time went on, stresses seemed to lift a little at a time. We accepted our new normal and continued to do what we do.
As school ended yesterday, I was not prepared for the tears from students. Uncontrollable crying over the idea of leaving their current teachers.
Teacher friends, don’t ever doubt the influence of your light in the classroom. Even while dealing with our own concerns and fears, students saw lighthouses in the storm.
Now it is time to rest. Time to reflect. Time to stoke the remaining embers and prepare to see those faces smiling back at us in August!
Gentle breeze Across my face Carries hope For a new day Some days My mind is stormy Unable to focus Thoughts Jumping From one To the other Lightning bolts On the horizon And yet, the storms Pass with your Witty words Our laughter Mingling with The breeze Kissing away My fears
Twenty-eight years. Sounds like a long time. As far as anniversaries go, I am hoping for twenty-eight more. Through moves, job changes, raising children, illness, even deaths, there has always been laughter mingled with it all. Hardly a day goes by without it. I’m not sure if that’s our secret, but I don’t ever want to take it for granted.
I always say you rescued me. I suppose it worked both ways. All I know is that I’m glad you didn’t let my putting a hand in your face deter you from trying again. 😘
Gentle breeze Across my face Carries hope For a new day Lately my mind Has been stormy Unable to focus Thoughts jumping From one to The other like Lightning bolts On the horizon-And yet, The storm passed With a quiet word A gentle embrace- Reassurance from Your presence Mingling with The breeze- Kissing away my fears
Today I am where I have not been In quite a Long, long time Sitting here Talking with you- Nervousness fades as Repeated questions Are patiently met with Repeated answers Happiness grows With each smile With each laugh Making new memories For future questions For future answers Worth repeating- Ready to go home now I will miss you tomorrow- I will miss you, too
We had a fun visit with our friend, Marie, this past weekend. She was nervous at first but settled in quickly. Pizza, movies, shopping-some things never change.
However, there were some noticeable changes. Most importantly, happiness and security thanks to love and consistency from her foster family.
Though she was ready to go home Sunday, she told me several times-I will miss you tomorrow. ❤
