A Collection Of This And That

Postcards from the Road ~ Stone Mountain, Georgia

2013-05-17T12:47:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, Cloud Nine pulled into Stone Mountain Park Campground, along the banks of Stone Mountain Lake, in Stone Mountain, Georgia, about 25 miles from Atlanta. This has to be one of the most beautiful, peaceful campgrounds we’ve ever encountered. It’s more like a state park, but on a grander scale.

Our stay here will be brief, but memorable. We plan to attend a Braves game tonight (checking off another MLB park from The Man's list), then leave here tomorrow morning, Lord willing.

After we got set up yesterday, we put on our adventure shoes and explored the peak of Stone Mountain. We decided not to join the climbers (as in I would have needed oxygen to get to the top), but took the easy way up and down, via tram. It felt like you were sitting on top of the world. The views are amazing! If you look closely, you can see Atlanta in the background.

One side of Stone Mountain has fabulous carvings of Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson, and Jefferson Davis. The grounds all around are immaculate.

There are plenty of family activities in this area, and if you're looking for a place to take the kiddos camping, I highly recommend Stone Mountain Park.

Until next time, sweet friends, keep on trucking.

***

Postcards from the Road ~ What We Did Tuesday

2013-05-15T22:13:00.001-05:00

Our plan was to take a horse-drawn carriage tour of Charleston yesterday, and we drove into town expecting to do so. But, as it turned out, we didn't. (That gives us another good reason to return to this area one day.) The Man wasn’t feeling 100%, and since the carriage companies were booked, one tour right after the other, they were packing them on four people to a seat—very tight quarters for someone still coughing and sneezing occasionally. We both felt it would be best to wait. (This photo was taken from one of the carriage companies' website.)

But we weren’t about to waste our final day in Charleston, so guess where we went? The library! It was quiet, quaint, peaceful, relaxing, and I could have stayed there until closing time, browsing through magazines, newspapers, and books. No matter what city we're in, the library is one of our favorite places to visit. For real.

From there, we went and had lunch at a place called Sticky Fingers, recommended by The Man’s brother for their BBQ ribs. The Man and I shared a combo plate of ribs and a pulled-pork sandwich. Yummy food, and the peach cobbler, scrumptious!

After lunch, my widening girth was screaming for relief, so The Man drove me to the Tanger Outlet Mall and turned me loose. Nothing like retail therapy to make you forget that your muffin-top has grown into a full-fledged loaf of bread, which I am artfully hiding in the photo above, thank you Michael Kors.

Later in the afternoon, I ambled around the campground, photographing the amazing roses growing throughout the grounds. They had mesmerized me since arriving. Every color you can think of. Simply magnificent! I don’t know that I’ve ever seen any roses more lovely than these, right out of the camera. Have you?

There is a peacefulness that comes in the evenings for campers. All of the day’s activities are done. After lingering outdoors a spell, if the weather is nice, you step inside and watch through the windows as the light fades.

***

This morning, we were up and at ‘em bright and early, breaking camp and waving goodbye to a charming city. So long, Charleston. We hope to visit you again.

As we rolled down the highway through a blue Carolina sky, I thanked the Lord for this opportunity, and for a seasoned chauffeur who makes everything in my world better.

We're often asked how Diesel does on long trips. His least favorite part of traveling is the moving part, but he does well and naps whenever he can. He's a good boy.

As I write, we are tucked in for the night in a quiet little camping spot in Augusta, Georgia, a place The Man drools over during The Masters golf tournament every year. Sadly, the golf course is closed to the public (unless you’re attending The Masters), and we were told you can’t even get close enough to the course to take a photo. Oh well, those are the breaks. Maybe one of these years The Man can be an attendee.

Lord willing, we will hit the road again tomorrow, aiming for Stone Mountain, where we plan to spend a few days. After that, who knows? In the words of Lao Tzu, "A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving."

To all of you lovely kindred spirits who have stopped by and left thoughtful and/or helpful comments, your kindness warms my heart and makes me smile. And speaking of kindred spirits, I happened to notice today that I have lost a few somewhere along the way. It's something I don't pay much attention to, but I surely hope I've not offended anyone. My sincere apologies if I have.

Until next time, sweet friends, press on.

***

Postcards from the Road ~ Charleston, South Carolina

2013-05-13T07:39:00.000-05:00

Well, dear friends, I admit I’ve been a failure as a travel blogger this time around. Condé Nast will not be sending me a check, that is clear. Not that they ever do, but you get my drift.

Truth is, we’ve not done much since I last posted from Auburn, Alabama. After leaving Auburn, we drove to Charleston, South Carolina (neither of us had ever been anywhere in South Carolina) and that’s where we currently are as I write. Charleston is an old, charming Southern city (founded in 1670), lots of character and very narrow streets (some cobblestone) in the historic downtown area.

The Man has only today felt significantly better, so that’s a blessing, and thank you for your prayers. We went out exploring on our own, as we generally do, but plan to take a horse-carriage tour tomorrow, as it seems to be the thing to do.

Here are some highlights from today, if you’re interested:

Twin sister reminded me of a popular restaurant here called Husk, whose executive chef, Sean Brock, has won a James Beard Award and competed on Food Network. Husk has been cited in many food magazines and I wanted to see what the hoopla was all about. In short, Husk is a celebration of Southern ingredients, with a modern twist.

We preferred dinner reservations, but, hello, those are not available until June, if that tells you anything about the popularity of Husk, so we made reservations for lunch today. (Pardon the hair ... the wind was blowing every which way.)

We arrived a few minutes early and enjoyed sitting on the shady porch. Once seated, service was quick and efficient, and the food was divine!

Here’s what we had, text taken directly from the menu:

I had the "South Carolina Shrimp and Geechie Boy Grits with Smoked Tomato, Peppers and Onions, Sweet Peas, Smoky Sausage, 63° Egg." (I couldn't resist taking a photo, as you can see. Yum-O!)

I didn't take a photo of The Man's man plate, but, in addition to an arugula salad, he had the "North Carolina Cornmeal Dusted Catfish with Fried Cabbage, Smoky Beans and Appalachian Tomato Gravy."

To read more about this restaurant, visit their website here.

***

After lunch, we boarded a boat named Carolina Queen (with a real paddlewheel) and took a 90-minute tour of the Charleston Harbor. Very relaxing way to spend the afternoon.

Tomorrow, Lord willing, we will spend our final day in Charleston. Our original plan was to go to Myrtle Beach from here, but after spending some time on the Internet, reading pros and cons, the cons have won. Nothing against Myrtle Beach, or its inhabitants, but if I’m going to the beach I may as well go to ones that I know and love and have experienced many times. I’m a bit of a stickler when it comes to my beaches.

So … from here, we will probably head toward Atlanta, where we will get our first glimpse at the Atlanta Braves’ Turner Field. As was planned since The Man’s retirement in 2008, the MLB parks are being checked off the list, one by one. I think we’re only about five shy of seeing them all!

I’m happy for him and am glad I enjoy baseball. Of course, even if I didn’t, just being with him, seeing him realize a lifelong dream, has been a joy and a blessing.

Our plans after Atlanta are still sketchy, but the girl is getting homesick (believe it or not), so we may well start the homeward stretch. Time will tell.

Until next time, thanks for keeping me company, as always.

***

Postcards from the Road ~ Wild Gifts

2013-05-09T20:23:00.002-05:00

Before we left home, I promised myself that this trip would find me paying close attention to the small and ordinary things, because, as we all know, they are the big things.

I like to believe that I notice the small gifts that every day offers—but days can get away from you, and by sundown, you realize you’ve spent most of your time and energy focused on the frivolous and unimportant.

I said all that to say this. The last two nights have found Cloud Nine parked in a lovely camping spot in Auburn, Alabama.

Outside our door, a patchy slope shows off purple and yellow wildflowers, while a fence runs around the property in a steady white line.

Normally, we wouldn’t stay two nights in a place that wasn’t on our radar, so to speak, but The Man hasn’t felt well the last few days, so we were thankful to find a nice place to settle into for a couple days.

This morning, I left to run a few errands—post office, drug store, that sort of thing—and when I returned, I stopped to take a photo of the wildflowers out front, admiring their unruly beauty.

Intent on cutting a few stems to take inside, I stepped in the RV to grab a pair of scissors, and that’s when my eye caught sight of something on the counter.

The Man—my ailing, wonderful man—had beat me to it. There, in front of the kitchen window, sat a cup overflowing with purple and yellow abundance. Simple, ordinary wildflowers—my gift of the day.

Until next time, sweet friends, seek out the simple, ordinary gifts in your day, and thanks for keeping me company here, and for sharing this journey with me. It means a lot.

***

Postcards from the Road ~ Music, Friends, Food

2013-05-06T22:23:00.002-05:00

The retirees left home Wednesday and stayed in the Dallas-Fort Worth area until today, when we pulled out and headed east. The Man and I have fond memories of the DFW area, from when twin sister lived there for 20 years, and we always enjoy returning.

Here are some highlights:

We attended the Gaither Fest concerts at the Ft. Worth Convention Center (amazing concerts, by the way, more like a church service).

As we were just getting into the convention center, I heard someone calling my name and did a happy dance when I saw it was my old friend, Anne. Anne and I have known each other since before marriage, and the odd thing is, we both live in the Houston area and yet we haven’t seen each other in a long time—as in years. But we came to a concert in another city and had a reunion. We've vowed to get together again after I get back home.

As you can see, Diesel is living the life of a spoiled dog. Nothing new there.

Sunday afternoon, we attended a Texas Ranger game and nearly froze to death.

This photo was taken from our seats. We were, literally, on the top row (no other seats to be found).

Sitting in the shade, with a cold north wind blowing hard on our necks the whole time, made us thankful we brought a blanket and hoodies. Our whole row looked like a line of Eskimos. The Rangers won, so yay!

On a side note, we planned to visit the just-opened George W. Bush Presidential Center, and drove there one day (on the gorgeous SMU campus), but it was quite cold, the line was down the street, and the wind doing about 30 mph that day. So, we decided to try another day, but when The Man got online to see about tickets, the time-frame we needed was not available. Ugh! We will plan to return another time.

As for this slice of pizza, it may well be the best pizza I ever ate. White cheeses, chicken, spinach, mushrooms, a truffle béchamel sauce, and a balsamic reduction. Yeah, baby. It came from a place called The Nodding Donkey, close to the SMU campus.

Until next time, sweet peeps, I am keeping you in my thoughts and prayers.

And So We Go ...

2013-05-02T11:52:00.001-05:00

Yesterday morning, The Man and I boarded Cloud Nine and took to the road. The next few weeks, Lord willing, will find us roaming about in sundry places—north, east, south) seeing what the month of May has to offer.

Some destinations are still unknown; we’ll see where the road leads us. Traveling is an opportunity we never take for granted, one for which we are always grateful. We both know how suddenly such things can come to an end.

As many of you know, just last year, the day after we returned from Branson in November, my dad fell from the roof and suffered an open pylon break in his ankle. The Man and I spent the next three months camped out on my parents’ property, helping in whatever ways we could, while praying for Daddy’s optimal recovery. As with most things in life, we didn’t know how it would turn out; maybe we had made our last big trip. But we are most thankful to thousands of friends like you who prayed for Daddy (and for us), and to God for showing us unmerited favor. Daddy's recovery has been on-track, and he has been walking (albeit still slow and painful) since the surgeon gave him the go-ahead the first week of March. We returned home the same month, where things have been busy ever since.

When we talked about taking an extended trip in May, we wanted to make sure my parents were ok with it. Even though we would come home at a moment’s notice, if needed, we wanted them to feel comfortable for us to be so far away. In their usual cheerful and wonderful way, they encouraged us to go, to explore, to enjoy our time together, to make the most of this opportunity, and so we go.

We drove over Monday evening and enjoyed a home-cooked meal together, followed by three games of Dominoes As we were about to leave, I set up the camera and squeezed into this photo, just in time to produce big smiles.

Speaking of smiles, I kept sugar plum on Tuesday. I will miss her something fierce, but she promised not to “get big” while I’m gone (oh, if only). I am also hoping to do the Skype thing this time.

Before we left home, my sweet daughter did what she does best—she made my heart sing when she reached down and plucked this tiny flower out of a patch of clover in the front yard and handed it to me. She used to do that as a little girl and it always made my day. I snapped this photo with my phone’s camera and it couldn’t look more perfect in my eyes. It reminded me that the most ordinary things can become quite spectacular whenever we take time to look closely at them.

And that’s what I intend to do during our travels in May. I will look closely at the small and ordinary things, because, as someone once said, after all is said and done, they really are the big things.

Until next time, sweet friends, thanks for keeping me company here. I may be scarce during the next few weeks, but I will share postcards from the road should you be inclined to stop by again.

***

Some Things Take Time ~ The Painted Table and Other Time Related Tales

2013-04-29T01:15:00.000-05:00

We live in a society that wants everything now. We buy instant mashed potatoes, frozen pizza, and biscuits in a can. Automatic tellers dispense cash without us ever leaving our vehicles. We dash e-mail messages through cyberspace in seconds and read the world’s news on our high-speed computers. We depend on five-second sound-bites to summarize speeches and expect our dry-cleaning to be done overnight. If that isn’t enough, HGTV offers backyard transformations, all within a 30-minute show. We are accustomed to quick resolutions.

At times, I’m right there among the guilty—bellyaching about it taking too long to get my hamburger at the fast-food joint, too long for a package to arrive in the mail, too long for the paint to dry. And why on earth hasn't so-and-so responded to the text message I sent three minutes ago?

Yeah, I can get a little cray cray like that. Shame on me. And I'm probably not the only one wondering if this post will ever end.

But like it or not, some things take time. I’ve written often about patience, and I won’t belabor the point here. Instead, let me share with you a few images of things that have come about recently, only through waiting.

***

This table and chairs have been with me for 20+ years. It was not an expensive set, and is not solid wood. Twenty years of hard use had taken a toll on it. A change was in order. In this case, I decided to go with paint.

I attempted to (somewhat) abide by the rules of the painting gurus and took my sweet time (something like a month) in the garage getting it done. It shouldn't have taken that long, but one thing led to another, requiring patience, patience.

I have no idea if this new look will hold up, but if not the table and chairs have certainly been worth the money spent 20 years ago, and I'm loving the drastic change. (In case you're wondering, those chairs are not black but dark walnut. Thanks to a senior moment, I bought the color quite by accident, but ended up liking it.)

***

It took three years of waiting to get these giant iris blooms. The year I planted them, they produced no blooms. The second year brought a total of one. I got so impatient I considered pulling them up. I'm glad I didn't.

Last year, my newly planted rose bush yielded two blooms. Since then, it's grown a foot or two, and, if you have a sharp eye, you can see that one bud is already opening, and three more are in the wings. On the right, my yellow lantana is full of promise, after being cut to the ground during the winter season. Waiting brings rewards.

Until next time, sweet friends, press on and don't give up when the waiting gets long.

***

I'm joining the lovely Cindy for her Amaze Me Monday series,
the lovely Marty for her Inspire Me Tuesday series,
and the lovely Anita (and friends) for The Scoop.

What I Haven't Told You

2013-04-26T20:44:00.002-05:00

I have drifted far away from my familiar routines and easy days. It’s been almost a month and I still haven’t told you about my latest venture, but since The Man encouraged me to share the news, here goes. If you’re interested, you might grab a cup of coffee and be seated. This could take awhile.

For the last decade, I’ve hemmed and hawed about becoming a dealer at my favorite antique mall, getting more serious about it in the last couple of years. The Antique Gallery sits just a few miles from where I live. I shop there often, and my home is dotted with various finds through the years. I knew it would be the perfect location, should I ever take the plunge of setting up my own booth.

The way it works, you sign a six-month lease, pay monthly rent on your space, furnish it with whatever (there are stipulations as to what you can sell, depending on which end of the mall your booth is located). You’re asked to keep your booth fresh and maintained, but you don’t have to work the floor, or even be onsite when you're not stocking or tweaking your booth. A percentage is taken out of your profits for overhead and onsite staff, which makes it nice not having to, physically, be there. With my lifestyle, it’s the only setup that would work for me.

While The Man and I were away from home, helping take care of my dad following his accident, I called the mall's manager and asked to be put on a waiting list for available space. I still wasn't sure this was going to happen, but better to be prepared.

On our return home, The Man and I discussed (yet again) this little notion of mine and, after a bit of wrangling, I got a weak thumbs-up (that's better than a thumbs-down). He would be my financier, but it would be up to me to run with it and make it work.

And so I ran with it, and will attempt to make it work for the next six months. I admit my reason for not sharing the news before was perhaps one of fear. I mean ... pssst ... what if I fail? But how will I ever know if I don't try? The best I can do is give it my all and see how it goes. If I'm not pleased with the outcome, or if it becomes overwhelming (having a booth is a constant work-in-progress, with endless tweaking), I already have a plan: I will put on a big sale and call it quits.

Speaking of sales, I’ve already sold a few items (Woo-Hoo!) and am hoping the summer months will see an increase in traffic. (I was told by the manager that spring is their slowest season. Time will tell.)

Along with a hodgepodge of inventory, I'm also stocking some of my sweet mother’s hand-quilted baby quilts. (She wouldn't part with her favorites, but I talked her out of a few.)

These adorable quilts make perfect gifts for new moms, and perfect pallets for wee ones. I assure you they were sewn with loads of love and care.

The Antique Gallery is located in Spring, Texas, off Hwy 2920, just west of IH-45. If you’re going west on 2920, turn right on Spring Towne Drive (between Mr. Transmission and Amegy Bank; it's easy to miss). You will see the warehouse building down on the left. My booth is W-7, against the south wall, along the outer edge. If you’re familiar with Old Town Spring, The Antique Gallery is just a skip and a hop away.

So there you have it, dear friends. I am now a business owner—sort of. And that leads me to my next topic. As a dealer of vintage and antique items, I am not only selling but buying, as well. That means, if you're local, I’d love to sift through your grandmother’s attic or grandfather’s tool shed.

As a dealer, I purchase things with the idea of reselling and making a profit, so I can’t offer what you might get in a retail setting, but if you’re interested, perhaps we could strike a few deals. I stock things from various eras but am mainly looking for pieces—big or small—produced prior to 1960.

If you’d like to know what I’m looking for, in general, and a few specific items, please email me. A link to my email address is located on my blogger profile page, and for my FB friends, my email address is located under the About tab.

This post has been rambling, I know, but I tend to lean that way. (Thanks for putting up with me.) Now you know why I've been a bit scarce around blogland in recent weeks, and I can't say that won't continue, as I'm enjoying the thrill of the hunt and also enjoying doing a few make-over projects for my booth. However, I don't plan to give up blogging. I still love it and will be posting, and visiting you all, as time allows.

Until next time, dear friends, whatever your hands find to do, do it with all your might. And, as always, thanks for stopping by and keeping me company.

***

As We Walk in Fields of Blue ~ A Day Trip in Search of Bluebonnets

2013-04-18T11:57:00.001-05:00

Yesterday, adventure called, so all that were available climbed aboard Cloud Nine and off we went in search of Texas bluebonnets. The passenger list totaled seven adults, one very cute toddler, and a yellow bird.

The clouds gathered in pockets of gray as we left the city and drove west. The countryside rolled by in shades of green and brown, the conversation, a steady hum. Just outside the little community of Chappell Hill, we came upon a meadow of blue. We pulled off the road, exited the bus and leaned into a fierce wind that whipped us (and our hats) about. Across the spring green field, bluebonnets awaited.

Here are some photos from the day.

The daughter came in handy as a sidekick photographer. She used her imagination and the results of me and The Man were candid and light, perfect for the occasion. (If you notice, my hat is pulled way down. I got tired of chasing it.)

***

The cute toddler (my grand-niece, sugar plum, if you haven’t guessed by now) had her beloved nana and papa with her. Cameras were clicking all around.

The twin sister had her beautiful (and very pregnant) daughter with her. (Just a few weeks left before another grand-niece makes her appearance!)

The day was a family affair, a rarity for a middle-of-the-week happening.

***

A little backstory, for those of you who have nothing better to do than read this wordy post (you are appreciated).

Whenever I hand my camera to The Man, he loves taking pictures of—wait for it—ME! And he especially enjoys the zoom feature, zooming in on me when I'm totally unaware that I am being photographed. I admit that in my younger years this little practice annoyed me to no end. I mean, who wants to be photographed when they aren't expecting it? The results were generally horrific.

But as I've aged, I find this little habit of his most endearing. Of all the beautiful things The Man could photograph, he chooses to focus on me, in all of my wideness and rolly-ness. If that isn't romantic, what is?

Yesterday, as the family set out doing their own thing among the bluebonnets, I strolled out away from the crowd and sat down. The field was alive with color, and peace. So much peace. I sat there and drank it all in, God's presence everywhere. And I happen to think that The Man created some magic with his sneaky photography work yesterday. In years to come, I know I will look at these images and remember the stillness of the moment.

As the troops made their way back to the bus, my daughter looked at me and said, "Mom, did we get a picture together?" I said, "I don't believe we did," so we stopped and I snapped this one. It is my favorite shot of the day—me and my amazing daughter standing in a meadow of blue.

I have rambled long enough, dear friends. Until next time, you have my permission to take a day off and go find the beauty around you.

***

Linking up with Mary at Little Red House, where the inspiration is all about "blue" today.

The Week in Review ~ Scenes from a Blessed Life

2013-04-13T20:57:00.000-05:00

Last Sunday, The Man and I drove to Deer Park High School (about an hour away) and got to hear our great-nephew sing with his high school concert choir, and also perform a solo. It was part of the Hello Texas program and Sunday’s concert was all Gospel music. Brenden did a great job singing, “Ten Thousand Reasons.” He comes from a long line of singers and made us really proud.

Monday was my dear daddy's follow-up appointment with his surgeon. The Man and I drove over to be with him and my mom. Praise the Lord for a great report! Daddy is healing well. He is still in a lot of pain, whenever he walks, but the doctor encouraged him to keep pushing himself to do what he feels he can do, and to rest whenever he needs to rest. It's still hard watching him struggle, knowing how he walked a mile, or more, every day before his accident. I am believing that he will be back out on the track one of these days. In the meantime, we thank God for bringing him so far from those dark days in November.

I was told (actually, I saw it on Facebook) that Wednesday was National Sibling Day. Not one to miss an opportunity to celebrate my sisters, I posted this photo on Facebook of the three of us on my wedding day. My sisters have stood by me in sunshine and rain, and big 80's hair. It was Isadora James who said, "A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life." So true. I can't imagine a world without my two sisters.

On Thursday, my amazing mom celebrated another birthday. All of my life, she has loved me unconditionally. She encourages me to do right, and doesn't judge me whenever I do wrong. She was, and is, a mighty rock in the shifting sands of time. Thank you, Lord, for my wonderful mother.

Friday was a fun day filled with Play-Doh and fishing. The fact that the fish were plastic didn't hinder our enthusiasm. Sugar plum and her Unctan (as she calls her Uncle Stan) were way too cute casting and reeling 'em in.

Today, my sweet niece (sugar plum’s mom) and I roamed neighborhoods seeking bargains at yard sales, as well as hitting a charming antique shop before calling it a day. I was mostly along for the ride, although I ended up purchasing a small milk-green bowl at the antique shop. Shelaine landed some mighty fine bargains, including this very old desk shown above, for a shockingly low price. (Pardon me, but I am strangely contorted in the photo; I was attempting to scrunch down to get me and sugar plum in the picture. I need to remember not to do that again.)

As you may know, Shelaine and her husband own Rosy Revival in Old Town Spring, and I can’t wait to see what they do with the desk. It has great bones but needs some cosmetic work.

That'll do it for now. Here’s wishing all of my blogging peeps a beautiful Sunday. Thank you so much for keeping me company. You’re always welcome to hang out here.

***

A Symphony of Skies

2013-04-11T13:57:00.001-05:00

I'm happy to be linking up with Mary again, over at Little Red House, for her unique party. Each Thursday, she takes a single word and uses it as inspiration. Brilliant!

Today's word is sky. If you know me, even a little bit, you know I'm in love with all things skyward. Not only the sky itself, but every last thing in it—moon, stars, sun, clouds, planets—so today's party puts tingles in my hands and dancing in my feet. I can't wait to see what inspiration awaits from fellow-bloggers.

All of the photos here were taken by yours truly, and they are all right out of a Kodak camera, no editing. But, as you will see, the real artist is God.

Each photo carries a deep meaning for me and transports me back to the time and place, the where, the when, and the why. I hope these images inspire you to get out and explore God's great big skies.

Evening in Destin, Florida - 2009

Sunrise in Clark, New Jersey - 2008

Evening in Rock Springs, Wyoming - 2011

Sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean, Port St. Lucie, Florida - 2012

Evening in Williams, Arizona - 2010

Afternoon on Galveston Island, Texas - 2011

Early evening in Van Horn, Texas - 2011

Somewhere between Beaumont and Houston, Texas - 2013

On the runway, waiting for take-off, headed to Dallas - 2002

(But that isn't a plane you see in the sky; that is the magnificent Venus.)

Sunrise over Lake Houston - 2012

A full moon in Lockhart, Texas - 2009

Sunrise in Destin, Florida - 2009

A full moon in Reno, Nevada - 2011

The magical "blue hour" in my backyard - 2009

Early morning in the Smoky Mountains - 2011

Sunset in Branson, Missouri - 2012

Sunrise on Galveston Island, Texas - 2012

The view from my father's hospital room, as a storm approached Beaumont, Texas - 2012

Sunrise on Interstate 10 - 2009

(It was our maiden voyage in Cloud Nine.)

Somewhere between Houston, Texas and Little Rock, Arkansas - 2012

Sunset over Madre Bay on South Padre Island, Texas - 2009

The magical "blue hour" in Mackinaw City, Michigan - 2010

Sunset over the Gulf of Mexico in Destin, Florida - 2009

Evening in my front yard - 2009

***

For more sky inspiration, click on over to Little Red House.

Potting Hutch Transformation ~ A Can of Spray Paint Works Wonders

2013-04-03T23:02:00.001-05:00

The girl has been a very busy bee lately. I’ve not even been home from my parents’ place a month yet and already I’m knee-deep in projects—projects that, quite frankly, I’ve been planning to do, not for months, but more like years. Yeah, I’m slow like that. So far, only one is completed, so without further ado …

You’ve heard of a potting bench, well I guess you’d call this project a potting hutch. For the last few years, I’ve been looking for something to make over, something that would hold all of my gardening pots, and something that had an enclosed cabinet area to hide the ugly stuff. And it had to be the right price. Although the hutch sits under a breezeway that stretches from my backdoor to the garage, it is still exposed to moisture and heat and the occasional rain that blows in that direction, meaning, in time, it will probably fall apart, so I wasn't going to spend a lot of money.

Several weeks ago, I found this little number at a local thrift shop. Gorgeous, huh? (wink, wink) The price was $40, but I got it for $30 and went right to work, using a can of Rust-Oleum “Eden” green spray paint.

I sprayed one coat and waited a day before spraying another one. I didn’t bother getting complete coverage in places, and didn't paint the undersides of the shelves, since I wanted to try and make it with only one can of paint. I don't think it matters, in the long-run. When the hutch was dry, I sprayed a protective finish over it and called it quits. I used only the round knobs from the original hardware.

The pics, for some reason, aren't showing the same color, but the color in this collage is more true. Overall, the results are exactly what I was hoping for, and my favorite thing is the sheaf of wheat markings on both doors, symbolizing a bountiful harvest. One can only hope.

Until next time, sweet friends, I’m checking off my to-do list, one project at a time.

***

Partying with the following party girls:

Pamela at From My Front Porch To Yours

Sherry at No Minimalist Here

Becky at Beyond the Picket Fence

Gina at The Shabby Creek Cottage
Richella at Imparting Grace.

Treasures in the Garden

2013-04-02T18:33:00.001-05:00

You probably haven't noticed, but I've been a bit absent in the social media world the last few days. There are reasons (all good), and I will "splain" more about that on another day.

In the meantime, Friday was a sugar plum kind of day, perfect in every way. We explored in the backyard and found a purple bloom in my little garden, a space that has, for the most part, been neglected so far this season (I'll get there, Lord willing).

While she stood admiring the world around her,

I sat on a bench nearby and admired her.

Flowers and children.

Two of God's greatest gifts to the world, wouldn't you say?

Speaking of sugar plum, I'm swiping some of her mom's photos from Easter Sunday.

My adorable grand-niece.

She warms my heart and fills me up with joy.

***

The Fence

2013-03-28T22:16:00.000-05:00

One of the first things my father did, when he purchased his property in 1970, was to build a white fence around it. Through the years, its appearance has been altered—whether by hurricane or by Daddy’s whims—but the fence has remained. Like my dear parents, the fence is a faithful piece of my history.

If this fence could talk, it would tell you of family celebrations, of dear friends coming to call, of sweet sun-drenched days, and devastating seasons of rain.

In my collection of scrapbooks, there are hundreds of photos showing some part of Daddy’s white fence. It is a popular backdrop, to this day. The sight of it there, upright and secure in the background, seems to steady me somehow.

***

I’m linking up with Mary at Little Red House for her Thursday party, where this week’s inspiration word is fence.

As the Seasons Change

2013-03-26T16:51:00.002-05:00

As I type, morning has broken over my little woods. Yellow sunshine slants across the backyard fence, and pours into the windows, adding a layer of warmth to this cold day. For Southern gals, 38° is enough to make us shiver. It’s almost as if spring has not arrived, but just a week ago we soared to 90°.

Transitions from one season to another have always fascinated me. They aren’t usually seamless; I dare say they aren’t meant to be. It seems the last week has found Old Man Winter attempting to hold on to the reins, making his final lap around the country, including here in Southeast Texas.

Frankly, I’m enjoying it to the fullest. I know the heat of summer is just around the corner and the chill in the air gives me one more opportunity to wear a bulky sweater while I’m out and about, to come home and put something in a pot to simmer away on the stove.

Nippy nights are my favorite. As a fire crackles in the fireplace, I'll settle in with an old quilt across my lap, my hands wrapped around a mug of steaming chocolate, savoring the moment, for who can tell what tomorrow holds?

Until next time, sweet friends, may you be warmed and filled on this chilly night in March.

***

Andrea Bocelli's Moving Story ~ What You May Not Know

2013-03-23T23:33:00.000-05:00

I posted this on Facebook yesterday, after seeing it circle around my news feed several times, and it's worth repeating here on my blog. It was something I was not aware of, and something that moved me to tears.

An article was published a couple of years ago about how blind tenor, Andrea Bocelli, praised a young mother for rejecting her doctor's advice to have an abortion, because her child might be born with disabilities.

The young mother was Andrea's mother, and he was that child. What a gift his mother gave to the world, through the music of her son.

Andrea Bocelli is one of my favorite singers. I've been privileged to see him perform in person, and his talent is something to behold. Not only does he have to memorize the lyrics to all of the songs he performs (most of them complex), but the melody, the arrangement, the tempo, the starts, the stops. Truly amazing, God-given talent, and what a testimony about choosing life!

You can read the article here, and also watch Andrea share this moving story on the YouTube link here. He said his hope was that women would consider his story, when facing difficult situations. That is my hope, as well.

It's been awhile since I linked up to the wonderful community called "Spiritual Sundays." I look forward to mingling with others linked there.

***

What to do with treasures in the attic? ~ Seeking answers

2013-03-20T17:04:00.000-05:00

I climbed the stairs to the attic the other day and could hardly find a place to land. As I've said to anyone who will listen, my attic is a museum waiting to happen.

Surrounded by boxes and tubs and stuff of diverse nature, I was reminded how this all got started.

When The Man and I married, one of the first purchases I made for our little home was a sturdy cardboard storage box. It covered the entire length and breadth of the kitchen table. The Man walked in and asked, "What’s that for?"

"Oh, just stuff," I said.

"What stuff?" he wanted to know.

"Important stuff."

He said, "OK," and shrugged his shoulders.

In time, the cardboard box overflowed and multiplied, our daughter was born, and we bought a house in the suburbs.

One evening, The Man discovered me waist-deep in plastic storage tubs, surrounded by monuments of … stuff.

"What is the meaning of all of this?" he asked, spreading his arms in a wide sweep.

"I think it means we’re settling down," I offered weakly.

He was too entangled in the heap to hear me.

"Why on earth are you keeping this? And what on earth is it?” He dangled a furry, gray pouch by its braided leather strap.

"That," I said, "is my old rabbit-skin purse from 1973. I have to keep that."

He studied the purse. "Whatever for?"

I shrugged. "I don’t know. Pencils. Postcards. Something."

He was not impressed.

***

Through the years, my collection of things that “needed” saving has grown. Indeed, my attic floor groans from the weight of boxes on top of boxes, tubs on top of tubs. Some are curiously labeled: DO NOT OPEN. DO NOT THROW AWAY. JUST KEEP. So, I do.

(via Google)

And I’m not alone. Saving cherished objects is a widespread tradition.

Baby items are quite popular.

Good thing, since I still have most of my daughter’s clothes, toys and books from childhood.

This is only a fraction of the toys in the attic.

I stored all these things with the intention of having a grandbaby one day.

I still don’t have one.

I do, however (woot, woot), have an amazing grand-niece (sugar plum, I call her), and she has already put to good use a number of the relics, including what was my daughter's beloved car.

Flashback to April, 1990, when my daughter was three. She adored this car and here she is peddling a doll, and a stack of books, to "church" on the deck out back. (Pardon the lack of quality; it's a pic from a home video, one I can't watch without a few tears falling.)

But back to the attic, I fully intend to haul down more of the old toys and books as sugar plum gets older. (And I'm getting another grand-niece! Twin sister's lovely daughter is due in June. I'm so excited!)

But I digress again from the attic situation ... see what I mean? Always something to distract me.

There’s the matter of the shoes. My daughter is now married, but most of her shoes—from birth to kindergarten, many in their original boxes—are still with me. (You're looking at just the top layer.)

Some appear hardly worn.

Others are worn out.

They all do crazy things to my heart whenever I look at them.

In years past, I considered getting rid of them. But at the moment of surrender, I faltered. I just couldn’t do it. And I realize I can't ever do it. Parting with them now would be like asking me for my daughter’s feet.

There are hoards of other boxes and tubs I'm not forcing on you here. For one, I haven't shown you the tub filled with trophies the daughter received in school, and speaking of trophies ...

If we ever have a grandson (wouldn't that be magical?), there's all of The Man's baseball trophies and mementos from his days of playing ball. (I mean, seriously. How do you throw away trophies?)

But the truth is I simply can't keep everything that is currently in the attic. I’ve vowed to have “attic day,” a day to sort and purge and dispose of. I vowed it last year and the year before, but I’m running out of time, and room. The matter is approaching urgent. This has to be the year. That's what I keep telling myself.

And that was my reason for being in the attic the other day ... just looking around, weighing the massive, not to mention emotional, task ahead.

Do wish me luck. I'll let you know how it goes ... if it goes.

Until next time, sweet friends, you can't keep it all, but please don't throw it all away.

***

Opening up my bulging attic over at Sherry's Open House Party.

The Gifts of March

2013-03-18T07:30:00.000-05:00

It’s been a blustery month. The March winds have put their stamp on our corner of the world—and on my hair. (I have yet to experience a good hair day.)

After church on Sunday, I came home, changed clothes, and stepped out into the backyard where a hundred gifts awaited. There was the sun, playing hide-and-seek with the clouds, the shadows moving across the lawn, like children at play. On the fence, the thermometer read a warm 81°, yet the calendar says it isn't even spring.

Then, there were the cardinals hopping anxiously about in the branches of the red-tip bushes (that are now, alas, the height of trees). Every spring, the cardinals are back. While we aren't looking, they build a nest and manage to keep it hidden from us all season long. They're just so stinking cute.

But the gift that captured my attention more than any other was the unmistakable sound of music. As each gust of wind pushed through the trees, the little wind-chimes picked up the pace, moving in perfect rhythm with the breeze, transforming an ordinary yard into a symphony of sweet notes.

Until next time, sweet friends, enjoy the gifts that surround you, and thanks for keeping me company here.

***

Linking up with Mary at Little Red House

Something Old, Something New

2013-03-13T20:36:00.001-05:00

A few months ago, I drove to one of my favorite little shops in Old Town Spring—Rosy Revival (surprise, surprise!) and fell in love with a two-drawer end-table.

The owners (my sweet niece and her sweet husband) had painted the piece, using a layering technique, with Santa Fe Turquoise and Cinco Bayou Moss (colors from their line-up of CeCe Caldwell's chalk paints). The results were magical.

I’d been looking for something for a particular corner since re-doing (kinda/sorta) my dining room walls back in 2010. I also wanted something that would give me extra storage and this sweet piece fit the bill (and green of any shade happens to be my favorite color), so I purchased it, carried it home, and hoped it wouldn’t clash with the green on my walls.

Once home, I was thrilled when it looked fairly perfect (at least from my untrained eye) and I set out to try and pull the corner together with décor that matches my love for vintage pieces mixed with new ones.

In a matter of a few weeks, I’d found everything I needed to create this little space, and I’m fairly in love with it.

Here’s a breakdown of what, where, and how much:

Painted two-drawer end-table, Rosy Revival, $49.99
Lamp (isn’t it cute?) – Hobby Lobby, 50% off sale, $15.00
Plate hanger – Hobby Lobby, $9.99
Texas plate – Antique mall – 75% off sale, $5.00
Vintage metal scale – Antique mall - $24.95
Wooden cheese box – Antique mall - $6.95
Crewel embroidery piece – Found in closet, done by yours truly, circa 1980's
Single shutter – Rosy Revival, $12.99
Six “depression glass” green saucers – Antique mall, 40% off sale, $11.00
Colonial cups/saucers – Taken from dining hutch, purchased long ago

Total cost: $135.87

Finding a piece of furniture that serves two purposes is, in my humble opinion, a home-run every time. Score!

Until next time, sweet friends, thanks for keeping me company.

***

Partying with the following:

Kim at Savvy Southern Style

Anita at Cedar Hill Ranch

Pamela at From My Front Porch to Yours

Sherry at No Minimalist Here
Mary at Little Red House
Debra at Common Ground
Dawn at Creative Cain Cabin

Twins Share Chicken Soup ~ A First for Everything

2013-03-12T00:00:00.001-05:00

I’m so excited to announce that I have another Chicken Soup title under my writer’s belt. Chicken Soup for the Soul: Inspiration for Writers will be in stores in May, but I couldn’t wait to share the news. You can reserve your copy on Amazon today!

Being part of this book, is extra special to me for several reasons.

First, I get to share the pages with my identical twin sister, Gayle (that's her beautiful self on the right), who is also a contributor to this book. Woo-Hoo! It’s a first for us, as twins, and I’m stoked.

Second, this book is meant to inspire writers, and that’s something I’m honored to do and have enjoyed doing ever since I got brave enough to call myself a writer.

And finally, this title marks my twelfth appearance in the Chicken Soup series. That’s a full dozen, and a number I never expected to see.

If you need a push—whether writing a book, an article, or a blog—I hope you will check out this upcoming title, and, perhaps, find just the motivation you need to keep going.

I will be giving away a few copies, so stay tuned.

Until next time, sweet friends, thanks for listening, and for always cheering me on.

***

Sharing with The Scoop.

Getting Back in the Groove

2013-03-09T23:11:00.002-06:00

Friday, The Man and I officially ceased camping out on my mom and dad's property. Cloud Nine had been parked there since Daddy's accident in November, but the time had come to clear out. It was a bittersweet event for us all.

Now that Daddy has been given the OK to bear weight on his foot, he and my mom feel as if they can take it from here, doing their best to adjust to this new normal, a normal that is still evolving and will continue to do so for some time.

Leaving them is never easy, but this time, seeing them waving from the porch, left me wrung out on the inside. By the time I got to the stop-sign, I was already reaching for the tissues in the backseat.

As I trailed behind Cloud Nine, I confess to having a mini-meltdown. The reasons are hard to explain. I was thrilled that they felt strong enough for us to go, but sad that Daddy’s walking is limited and painful. Of course, it is early, and it is to be expected (he has metal plates and screws holding it all together). While we pray and believe that he will be better, in time, who can say for sure? Such are the hardships in life, and, to be honest, I’m not moaning about it; I’ve been blessed with exceptionally healthy parents. It is a true miracle that he can walk at all! And we give God the glory!

It’s just that each year brings changes, sometimes hard changes, and there’s no crystal ball to see through. As I drove on, I ended up emptying a box of tissues and calling twin sister just to have someone listen to me blubber a bit.

But I’m OK. Truly. This uncertain season has reinforced my belief that each day offers gifts to be cherished, and I am bringing home so many sweet memories (gifts, if you will) of the days spent with my parents, memories that will stay in my heart always and forever.

And then there’s you. Not to sound like a broken record, but thank you so very much for your words of encouragement to me, during this trying time (you always know just what to say), and for your continued prayers for my parents. Dad's spirits have been low lately—just trying to come to terms with what is and what may be—but one thing is sure: His faith in God is unwavering, and so is mine. In sunny or stormy weather, God is our help and our strength.

As I write, the clouds have rolled in, and spring is all around—the remarkable coming of new life.

Cloud Nine sits in the driveway. As for me, I haven't found my groove yet. I'm still a bit disoriented, getting used to the idea of really being home again. But if all goes as planned, the next few days will find us unloading and giving the RV a spring cleaning, top to bottom, inside and out, before putting it in storage again. And who knows? Maybe a pleasure trip is not far away. The subject has come up in recent conversations. I’ll be sure to keep you posted, as always.

Thanks, dear friends, for listening to my rambling, and for keeping me company here. You are such a blessing to me.

***

Hello, March

2013-03-05T18:52:00.002-06:00

It's the time of year when the earth calls to me. Yesterday, under a cloudless Texas sky and golden sunshine, The Man and I got out in the backyard and busied ourselves with this and that and the other.

One order of business was pruning the pear tree that, yes, is already blooming, and, no, it isn't the right time to prune, but sometimes you have to break a few rules.

I was delighted to bring some of the branches indoors, where I will enjoy both beauty and fragrance for as long as they last.

***

My yard has been terribly neglected the last few months. Even though there are reasons why (namely, we've hardly been home since November), bad is an understatement for how it looked yesterday morning. And getting started is always the hardest part (like taking that first step toward change).

But that is precisely what I did. With assorted tools in hand, I went to work. Before long, I was in the zone, doing what I love.

To sift the cool, clean earth between my fingers, to smell its musky aroma, to rake away winter's debris, while hearing the steady trickle of the little pond ...

What can I say? Spring has cast its gentle spell once again.

Last year, I planted my first rosebush, and would you look at that? I do believe it has grown at least a foot since summer's end. I'm looking forward to a new season of buds and blooms, and bouquets in Mason jars.

There's still much to be done around here; plants to buy, flowers to plant, seeds to sow (yes!), mulch to scatter, but, with God's help, we'll get there, one task at a time.

To all of my blogging friends, still wrapped in winter's clutches, take heart. Here in Southeast Texas, we're welcoming in a new season, and it's headed your way.

***

Partying at:

The Scoop
Wow Us Wednesday
Open House Party
Grace at Home

When Someone Believes in You ~ Remembering

2013-03-04T08:30:00.000-06:00

While visiting a friend in the Medical Center a few months back, I couldn't resist driving through the beautiful campus of Rice University. Even though Rice University sits on a crazy busy street, once you turn in you're transported by the stillness.

As I stopped to snap a few photos, I remembered so well my time spent here as a young writer (and a young mother). All of my dreams were so fresh, my zeal for writing sky-high.

And it was here, on this very campus, that someone (other than my loyal family) encouraged me to pursue my writing ambitions. I had real potential, she said. She liked my work. My instructor's belief in me was precisely what I needed, in order to believe in myself.

Today, I’m grateful for teachers and mentors who go the extra mile. They are the ones you always remember. One person can make a difference, it’s true.

Is there someone special in your life who helped you over a hump, who gave you the courage to believe in yourself and follow your dreams?

Speaking of writing, I discovered some months ago, quite by accident, that my third book, Home Improvement (9 Steps to Living a Joyful Life) is now available as a Nook Book. Oddly enough, I don't have a Nook, as I still prefer the paper sort, but if you enjoy such things, I'd be honored if you took a look at my "new" Nook Book.

Until next time, dear friends, thanks for stopping by and keeping me company. You're always welcome here.

***

The Beauty of Cloudy Days

2013-03-03T01:17:00.000-06:00

If all of our days were cloudless, oh the beauty we'd miss.

Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.

(Romans 12:12)

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.

(James 1:12)

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

(Romans 8:28)

***

Linking up with Jennifer for Scripture and a Snapshot

One Sweet Little Dress

2013-03-01T20:49:00.000-06:00

This little dress belonged to my mother when she was a child. I don't remember how I was the lucky one who ended up with it, but I cherish it.

It is not in the greatest condition, but it's at least 75 years old by now. Things happen when you get old, as I've been learning during the last few years. Lawdy mercy. Whoever said "the best is yet to come," well ... I tend to disagree but that's another post for another day.

Back to this adorable dress ...

The joy of having this dress is having the photo of my mother wearing it. Isn't she just a doll? She has the bluest eyes, to this day.

***

Linking up with the following party girls:

Claudia (A Favorite Thing)

Cindy (Show and Tell)

Martha (Flashback Friday)