…of the People I share it with,

…and the Man who will lead us.

…So proud to be…

an American.

President Obama,   …we do Believe…

“BARACK THE VOTE!!!!!”

…the power of change is ours…

See you at the polls…Liz

*This post is not intended to engage any political debate..we’ll leave that for the candidates. Embracing the classification of “inspirational blog”, I only wish to share with others one who inspires me….

Barack Obama 2008!

Summer.

These wonderful warm days beckon our full attention, promising to fill our lives with all that is absent during the winter months. Walks, swims, picnics, camping, gardening or bicycle riding, Summer is the season to do it all. With longer days packed with activity and lazily drifting into balmy nights, one can always seem to find a harmony in merely existing. Feeling good in just about everything we do, summer invites joy and fun …and the permission we sometimes need to behave like a kid again.

With my own permitted invitation to do just that, I once again regress into my annual childhood state… wanting to do it all, shed responsibility, and never say enough.

I grew up in Queens, NY, where summer was a ‘neighborhood’ in itself. Living on a ‘block’ boasting about 50 homes, 25 on each side of the street, neighbors became familiar with each other as they ventured out of their winter caves and socialized easily on each other’s front ’stoop’. Rediscovery embraced, they shared a cool drink, a good joke or the latest gossip.

Laughter could be heard over the passing traffic…inducing a smile to a passerby…relating to the pleasure of another’s good time. Yet some just preferred to enjoy the evening solitarily, sitting quietly … listening to the night…a cigarette with its subtly glowing tobacco tip piercing the dark the only indication of an outdoor presence.

Summer also brought with it an abundance of ‘kids’ and planned excursions to the beach for every sun forecasted day. Piling into the back of pickup trucks, only a spot for your butt was required. Evenings were spent ‘Hangin’ out’ on the corner, night after endless summer night. Friends brought friends, ‘regulars’ were always around, and music was forever playing. Illuminated by the streetlight and occupying the entire corner of a little side street in Queens, these groups of teens were harmless and nonthreatening…seeking only to enjoy each other, the season, and this present moment in time.

Engulfed in the pleasures only a teen could appreciate partaking of such reckless jaunts and non eventful evenings yet wanting and expecting it to last forever, time passed quickly…swallowing hours at a time. Perhaps it is the unrealized knowledge that these are some of the best of times, pleasurable memories which will follow us through life.

Whatever the reason, it unjustifiably ends all too soon.

At night’s end, ..or my night’s end that is, the outside light went on at my house, signaling time to go home. Acknowledging my responsibility I break away from my friends and head down street …hoping to extend my curfew. With a much appreciated extension granted…my glorious summer evening continues, …for a little while longer anyway…

And as things change, …so they stay the same.

For here I am again, selfishly enjoying my summer, neglecting some responsibilities and totally losing track of time. Like a kid out of school there’s so much to do…and the longer days need to be longer.

But although I’m enjoying these sweet summer days, my attention is caught by a familiar beacon …shining once more through my night. I recognize at once through summer’s dusky haze …that my ‘light is on’ once again.

Concerns for my lack of posts echo through my (e) mailbox reminding me of my other world and the deficiency of my presence in it. Neglecting my writing in lieu of summer pleasures, I ‘m simply enjoying life and all that it’s offering … I hope you’re all doing the same.

So I’m checking in, my friends, and I am fine, … and thank you… for summoning me home.

For at the end of the day, when all is said and done, and the wind is let out of the sails,

It’s the ‘fires’ of home which will burn through the night,

and keep us safe, warm and united.

…Thanks for keeping the light on.

Until next time…Liz

Waking up earlier than usual this morning and feeling more like myself… I decided to enjoy my morning coffee outside.

Basking in the quiet peacefulness only mornings can provide, I welcome a new day as I become reacquainted with my own backyard. Admiring the rapid growth of my winter-dormant perennial flowers, I smile in delight as I visualize their future splendor. The air is fragrant with the sweet scent of honeysuckle and my little ‘winged’ friends are busy at my feeders.

A glance over at the bluebird houses catches a returning Tree Swallow swooping down for entry…as the other holds occupancy of a House Wren and family. With thoughts of adding a third to this backyard-birding-neighborhood in the hopes of attracting its meant-for occupant, my thoughts are interrupted with a distinct humming sound to my left.

Turning around slowly, I can see a Ruby-Throated Hummingbird hovering over the hummingbird feeder. Wings which rotate rapidly enable him to ‘fly’ in place, while dipping his long slender beak in the ‘flower-like’ opening for a syrupy sweet drink of nectar. Satisfying his fast-depleting energy requirements, he buzzes away…but I know he’ll be back again.

I smile at the beauty of this fluttering ‘jewel’ as Hummingbirds hold a special place in my heart. It is not just the unequivocal uniqueness of this tiny bird which deem it so remarkable, but my own cherished personal encounter I’ve experienced long ago…

******************************************************

Upon entering my garage one summer afternoon, my attention was caught by the distinct hum of fluttering wings. A tiny hummingbird, hovering near the high ceiling, had gotten trapped inside by a probable deceiving lure. Instinct driven, he continued to fly ‘up’ into the roof of the building seeking escape of an environment he unwittingly entered, but never dropping low enough to go out the way he came. In the belief that the color red is the drawing color for Hummingbirds, I deduced that he was drawn inside by the red emergency pull of the garage door opener.

Unable to do anything but watch from this distance, my heart broke at his plight. In desperation to help, I attempted to ‘light’ an alternate exit for him by surrounding an open window with anything red I could find. From red fabric to empty Coke boxes, I outlined an escape path. That being all I could possibly do, I could only hope he would find his way.

As I prepared dinner I would steal opportunities to check in on this little creature for I knew he would be tiring soon. Hummingbirds need continual energy to fuel their rapidly fluttering wings and this little guy had to be wearing thin. My every peek into the garage, however, showed the same tiring attempts…hovering still near the peak of the roof …no progress at all being made. Still unable to physically reach him, I knew his time had to be almost up. Returning into the house, I resigned myself to his demise…feeling helpless and sad at his unfortunate fate.

By the close of dinner I decided to have one last look as dusk was fast approaching. Upon entering the garage I looked up …but my little hummingbird was no longer there. Had he made it out of there after all? Leaving nothing to chance I walked the perimeter of the garage scouring the floor…moving everything carefully along the way.

Then I heard it.

The faintest flutter of exhausted wings. Like a car engine struggling to start but seizing with every attempt. Caught between the wall and a board, he lay on the floor.. visibly spent but still alive. I gingerly scooped him up into the cup of my hand and hastily moved him outside.

Quickly removing the feeder from the tree, I held him close to it for a drink. Perched on my thumb, he drank readily…pausing only in small intervals to catch his breath. This tiniest of creatures, delicate and fragile in stature, was the most amazing thing I had ever seen.

Overcome with awe and excitement, exclamation hung in my throat…silenced only by my conscious will. Daring not to utter a sounding breath for fear of stressing him further, I silently watched him in the evening’s dusky twilight. He drank for a few long minutes…a lengthy time to me but not long enough for me. I wanted this desired but unique outcome to linger just a little longer…

After recharging himself sufficiently he finally took flight, flying off into a young maple. Lighting on a limb, he paused once more…allowing me one final look at him before flying off into his much fought for freedom..

Reflecting on this experience, I’m reminded that even in the most despairing of times, there is always somebody watching..aware of our plight …eager to lend a ‘hand’. Help and comfort do lie waiting, even if we believe we are going unnoticed. Our lives are observed, … our behavior is monitored, …or our presence is missed …and noted by others. Paths are crossed fatefully,…unknowingly,…at our most needed moment in time.

For wherever help and comfort comes from or how it arrives doesn’t really matter… only that it is given and accepted.

So now I’ll take the time to thank you all, my friends, for your expressions of concern for me as of late…for all of the ‘helping hands’ that were so readily given were appreciated, needed, and warmly embraced.

A lesson of life,… for me, learned twice,… in both giving and receiving.

For the acknowledged realization that a loving hand is only a reach away,

…is now fully comprehended …and reminded to me..

..in the ‘hum’ of fluttering wings.

Until next time…Liz

Numb.

My mind is blank like a new sheet of a drawing tablet waiting for it’s first stroke of lead. Succumbing to a feeling of loss I am, and have been, unable to focus on anything.

Life has again delivered its wake-up call ..reminding once more that we are all on borrowed time and no life lasts forever.

With heavy heart, I respectfully acknowledge this fact with the passing of my Uncle yesterday. Taken from us abruptly and unexpectedly, my family is left grieving and sad …coping with the loss of another one of its’ members.

Succumbing to his journey’s end, my uncle slipped away slowly… mind before body. He had ‘drifted’ into a realm unknown… travelling down the final path leading from this world ..into the next.

Wanting to believe that we all have a predestined path we have unwittingly chosen to travel in death as perhaps in life, I believe it will be our last beautiful ‘life-like’ experience. It is on this ‘crossing-over’ journey where peace and comfort will be provided to a distressed yet aware and somewhat ‘knowing’ state of transition. It is reminiscent of all things which brought happiness in this world…promising the same happiness and comfort in the next.

Exploring this idea a little further, my thoughts run freely. I want to believe no two paths have to be the same.. I think these paths should be as we are, unique unto themselves. Reflecting deeply on this subject, as one can often become lost in thought in the face of death, I find myself envisioning what I’d want my own final journey to be like.

As I follow my ‘path’ along, ..a literal ‘trail’ as it were..I am nestled in a wood. Quiet surrounds me but I hear the silent crunching of pine needles beneath my feet with every step I take. There is a calming reassurance in the distinct calls of birds overhead as a stream soothingly rushes past to my left. The air is pleasantly warm on my skin ..there is a peace overtaking me. Along the way I pass a few people …all of us heading in the same direction. I hear their voices but they are distant …their words not really mattering anyway. I’m assured of my course to a precise destination though I do not know where I am.. I’m lost, but I know the way.

I’m comforted by all I held in wonderment in ‘life’ and find complete contentment this state… I’m aware that the end of this journey will hold a summit like no other and there is no turning back. The final destination will be clarifying and freeing of all concerns. It will be warm and comforting yet calmly exhilarating…engulfing all the senses. It will provide a release of all burdens ever known …and embracing it is all that is left to do…

Perhaps it is the necessary mental painting of this picture that allows us to accept and let go of life…the most precious gift given and shared with others.

For some it is the promise of another life yet to come that holds peace and acceptance in losing all those that have passed away from this world.

A too-fast-in-coming fate awaiting us all..it is inescapable for all living things…

For there is an end to every beginning…

…and in turn

…there can be no beginning…

without…such an end.

..I’ll miss you, “Unc”.

Until next time…Liz

Life.

…A wonderful gift we were all given though we never asked for it ourselves…

How many times have you heard it…’Enjoy your life and live it fully…you only go around once.’

I’ve said this myself many times.

Believing that life is meant to be lived to its full capacity, I think never a moment should be wasted. Days and nights ought to be filled with activities enjoyed and people whose company is appreciated. Regularly partaking of these pleasures is something that should hold a priority and significance for all of us.

For some, however, the interpretation of living life ‘fully’ can be lost or misconstrued. With the desire to have and do it all, the focus is fixated on living it ‘up’ rather than living ‘well’.

Translated by throwing caution to the wind, eating and drinking is indulged without concern while exercise is viewed as hobby instead of necessity… a pastime..’fit in’, if at all, whenever convenient. Less desirable habits are adapted acknowledged with empty vows to ‘quit’ them forthcoming.

Although we subconsciously know better than our actions indicate, we are convinced that anything less of this way of living ….is living life deprived.

In a moment of honest appraisal we are faced with the realization that change is necessary but are reluctant, scared, or unsupported in making any substantial improvements. Although it might involve small sacrifices and readjustments, it’s not impossible or difficult to achieve these changes and truly have it all, enjoyably and responsibly…but mindfully acquired.

Posting on this subject before, I can’t help but reiterate how important a conscious, healthy lifestyle is to all of us.

Wrongfully believing there’s ‘always tomorrow’, …’plenty of time’…to ‘worry about it later’, ‘Tomorrow’, unfortunately, comes around all too fast, reflecting all that was done..or neglected Today. There is no turning back the hands of time when the ‘game over’ light flashes..no ‘do-overs’ for care not taken ..or for any damages done.

…It is the here-and-now that matters most ..responsible for the outcome of what happens ‘later’.

Giving thoughtful consideration to this fact, we should carefully reevaluate our lives and begin making the necessary alterations to guarantee our future meets our expectations. For it’s never too late to begin making changes for the better and assuring a satisfying quality of life yet to come.

..For it is ‘now’ which is the start of any new beginning…as Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

Eat nutritiously, exercise daily and live life heedful of all habits…

For we only have one life to live…

and it should never be taken for granted.

Until next time…Liz

I’m sitting here at my computer trying to focus and write a post but mentally unable to do so.

If you could see me, I’m happily sipping a glass of wine and gaily browsing the internet…visiting blogs I enjoy to read ..some known and familiar, …and some new and unexplored.

Finding contentment and pleasure in this luxury of reading, I ‘m enjoying the minds and musings of others while my own remains blank and unoccupied. I’m absorbing every detail of every written word and pondering every thought-provoking statement.

I enjoy reading blogs of all types of nature…similar… or different to my own. Contemplating and examining others opinions and experiences of life opens all kinds of doors and viewpoints into worlds that might otherwise remain unexplored.

I marvel at the inspirations, photography, humor, sensitivity, passions, loves and kinships they have to offer, and come away each and every time feeling satisfied and accomplished in understanding.

As I hop from mind-set to mind-set, I laugh with some and am moved by others… each visit generating it’s own rewarding experience. A glimpse into each of these worlds’  provides an invitation to familiarity, …a sharing of ’self’ extended by many.

I realize I’m not a contributor today to any thought-provoking, insightful pondering, but I am content with my quiet presence nonetheless…

..For an appreciation of the gifts and writings of others might be viewed as a gift of itself…

…for what is the good of the written word..

…if it does not touch …or is read…by another.

Until next time…Liz

“…You Wake Up, and Time Has Slipped Away…”

Photographs…

…Our only visual link to the past.

Whether our own or even somebody else’s, it’s always nostalgic and delightful to flip through photos,.. identifying people, enjoying scenery or reliving memories from days gone by. Recording life as it happens, time is stopped… frozen forever for another day …to be reopened and enjoyed again.

With todays technology the photographer is provided with instant gratification. With the ability to re-shoot a scene immediately if the first is deemed poor, not a moment of potential treasured memory is lost. Having two hobbyist photographers in my family I am continually delighted as special events are immediately captured.

Rummaging through my albums I smile at the recollections my own photos stir as sleeping memories are awakened. Sometimes every detail can be vibrantly recalled,.. the scent of the air, the conversations taking place, or the laughter being shared. All events are relived again …pleasantly enjoyed once more.

Being left sentimentally satisfied after reviewing the pictorial documentation of my life, it is the photos of ‘old’ where my passions lie..serving as bridges to times unknown.

Offering information and a connection to family, it is in these photos where answers are held as to who we are… and from where we come. Because of these treasured preserved images, the family tree can be climbed…

…Resemblances can be seen and discovered …a fact that would otherwise be left unknown.

During my examination of these older photographs, I marvel at the family likenesses I see. Not readily noticing just how many traits or appearances are passed down from generations, I am taken aback at the similarities.

As I compare photographs of my daughters and my mom through the various stages of life, the differentiating clues are noticed only by the age of the photo itself. Visually seeing my ‘mom’ in my ‘girls’, ..I am left moved. There is a comforting and appreciated realization that she has left her mark…passing a piece of herself onto future generations …just as she…and myself… bear ‘pieces’ of generations past.

…It is this passing and receiving of family traits that identify who we are… similar branches of a single tree.

A diligent attempt to continually capture all that is held dear will provide cherished links for future generations…

…For photographs provide a tangible reflection of one’s life …as well as a glimpse for others into an unknown past.

Memorializing forever all that was loved, …

…A picture speaks a thousand words.

“..Remember…

Do you Remember? ….

..The Times of Your Life…”

Until next time…Liz

… Will You Follow?..

We took the dogs for their first hike of the season today.

Loving to hike as much as we do, the dogs seem to inherently know when we are about to embark on such an afternoon and eagerly anticipate the invitation to accompany us. Willing to take turns and don a backpack of their own, the Collies are always at the ready …anxiously awaiting to begin an adventure.

Today I decided that I would take Zack, my little Lhasa Apso, along as well and see how he would do.

Zack, a very bossy little dog to the Collies, (read more about him Here), seems to become slightly nervous upon leaving the house. Even a simple walk around the block will sometimes cause unease…his little tail displaying this emotion as it lengthens and drags behind him instead of happily curling over his back. Wanting to include him anyway, I insisted he come along.

As we set out toward our destination, I watched with amusement as the three dogs anxiously tolerated the car ride. Collie ‘noses’ were seen protruding out both sides of the car’s rear windows …somehow processing every scent in the air. Zack sat on my lap.. happy but cautious to our destination, .. the excitement to launch mounting with every passing minute.

Finally arriving at our destination, Benedict Pond in Beartown State Forest, the dogs were eager to be led onto the trail. It wasn’t long into our hike before we all fell into a rhythm …making our way over rocks and trees. Zack, much to my surprise, kept up quite well, walking in sync with Shane.

Concerned for his wellbeing as he is unaccustomed to hiking, I watched him closely and stopped frequently to offer him water. During our periodic rests, I would surrender Shane and allow both Collies to forge ahead with PD, continuing to blaze the trail.

As Zack and I lost sight of the others, I noticed something I hadn’t had opportunity to before. Zack, for all his growling and bossiness toward the Collies at home, was anxious and unhappy when not near them on this walk. With his tail hanging limply displaying his apprehension, he desperately sought to regain their companionship…finding a security and enjoyment on this hike in their company.

As I acknowledged this fact, I was somewhat moved.

Reflecting on this little dog’s life, I realize that he’s still finding his way. Losing the only friend he’s ever had with the death of my previous Collie, he’s not really sure where he stands with these other two. Tolerating one and not the other ..he’s lost, …wanting to fit in..but unable to….yet.

With this new realization and enlightenment I am softened to Zack’s self inflicted plight. He, …like we all can be at times, is his own worst enemy …standing in his own way of experiencing belonging. Not letting his guard down he is missing the companionship a ‘pack’ has to offer.

Understanding his state of mind and not wanting to cause him further angst, I hurry to catch up to the Collies. As they turn in our direction upon our arrival we are greeted warmly… they seeming to have missed Zack’s presence as well. Taking Shane’s leash I visibly restore a harmony as the three of us resume our hiking.

Pondering this observation, I lose myself in thought and marvel how these creatures continue to forever reflect life and relationships back at me. I never cease to be amazed at the comparisons I can apply to life simply by observing theirs. Wanting to resolve any discontentment they may feel and striving to restore a balance to their life, I can apply these same lessons,..and solutions when found, to myself and those around me… benefiting and learning from the process as well.

Before long we have looped around the Pond concluding our walk and have arrived back at the car. As we head back toward home, I can’t refrain from smiling. They remind me of a Norman Rockwell illustration … returning from a much anticipated day… tired and spent but fulfilled and happy.

I give Zack a little kiss and silently promise to include him more often.

I realize that it’s only when he is ready to surrender himself completely that he will find a constant companionship with both Collies as well as a contentment in his life..

…his success hinging on continual patience and love,

and a dependence on me..

…to lead the way.

Until next time…Liz

In celebration of Patrick’s Birthday, we headed for little family getaway to Rhode Island.

This being our second trip to Newport, it is fast becoming a favorite weekend vacation spot of ours. Wanting to visit a few of the “Mansions” of Bellevue Avenue, past residences of various members of the Vanderbilt Family, I was again left awestruck..just as I was the first time I was there.

These summer ‘cottages’ of the Gilded Age are overelaborate and ostentatious, yet grand and spectacular to behold…remaining beautiful and unique unto themselves throughout each passing decade.

My favorite ‘cottages’, as they are termed because they were built as summer homes to be used for a mere unbelievable six to eight weeks out of the year, are ‘Marble House’ and the ‘Breakers’, the residences of William K. Vanderbilt and Cornelius Vanderbilt.

The ‘Breakers’, measuring 250 feet by 150 feet and containing 70 rooms, was a ’summer home’ to Cornelius Vanderbilt. Cornelius, who began work as a bank clerk earning $50 a month and living on his salary, soon grew his worth as chairman to the family’s railroad empire to 70 million.

The Breakers took two years to complete construction, a commendable feat considering that workman did not have the benefit of modern tools and machinery. This grand cottage held its much anticipated ‘opening’ for 300 guests, as all were escorted by footman clad in the distinctive maroon livery, into the Great Hall, whose ceilings rose to a height of nearly fifty feet. In its reality, The Breakers was breathtaking, outshining the many rumors of its contained tons of art and treasures.

‘Marble House’, the most striking of the cottages of Newport, was built of 500,000 cubic of feet marble. Commissioned to Richard Morris Hunt by William K. Vanderbilt for his wife, Alva, Marble House took nearly four years to complete and cost $11,000,000 to build.

Mr. Vanderbilt, who turned ownership of the house over to his wife after completion, spent only two summers there. In March of 1895, Alva became the first woman in her ’set’ to divorce a Vanderbilt. Although he begged her not to, she did it anyway. Led by a desire to be a ‘pioneer’ in the fight for woman’s rights, Alva was determined to do what she deemed appropriate for her …and her daughter, Consuelo.

Determined to solidify her social position, five months after her divorce Alva held a great ball to introduce the suitor of her daughter, the ninth Duke of Marlboro, to Newport society. Inviting 500 guests, each was escorted by footman into the Main Hall which was dominated by a beautiful floral piece consisting of a large bronze fountain, water hyacinths and fairy lamps. Live hummingbirds and butterflies fluttered about the blossoms while guests danced to three orchestras playing in the Gold Room. Nine French chefs prepared the dinner, one course alone consisted of four hundred mixed birds..

…Alva found success in her mission as Consuelo was proposed to that night. She dutifully accepted…at her mother’s insistence.

In 1896 Alva remarried Oliver Belmont, a friend of William, and moved into his cottage across the street. She closed Marble House, but continued to use only it’s laundry facilities as she liked it better than those in her ‘new’ home.

As I listen intently to every word of tour, I am captivated by the lives of these people and astounded by the fact that wealth of such magnitude as well as a prodigious lifestyle were so nonchalantly exploited.

I imagine, as most people visiting here, what it would be like to live such a life of grandeur. With literally every need and desire met, there was nothing but socialization that needed attention …along with the proper presentation of oneself.

..As I try to envision a day in the life, I can only wonder if such luxury brought the contentment we imagine it would…

As we leave Newport and begin our journey home, I take with me a memory of a glimpse into an era and lifestyle I will never know.

Although such extravagances shall forever elude me, I am entranced with this phase of time nonetheless..

Captivated with the grandeur of the Gilded Age and enraptured by my own imagination,

..I am enticed into visiting… again…and again.

Until next time…Liz

***I found a link for some interior photographs…

Click Here to view the Great Hall in the Breakers..

Click Here to view the Dining Room and Gold Room at Marble House..